#there's like. multiple things wrong with every word in that sentence

[cyberclouddream]

Mercury Signs in the 12th House

Part Two

Based on signs for Mercury in the twelfth house. Mostly represents behaviors that are unrealized by the native because they’re subconscious or unaware they’re used to mask insecurities.

Click here for Aries through Virgo

Libras get isolated by trying to blend in with everything around them rather than owning their true feelings.

- on the surface they come off approachable, easy to talk to, and genuinely interested in others but they’re just masters at saying just enough to make others think they know them while keeping their real thoughts buried

- bend over backwards to avoid confrontation, but secretly resent that they constantly suppress their own needs

- overanalyze what they say or what other people say to point of jumping to conclusions

- absorb everyone else’s emotionq and dramas but never let anyone else know what they truly feel, since expressing their thoughts scare them

- strong fear of being disliked [ disapproved, disappointing, rejected, abandoned ] leads them to stay quiet in important or opportunistic situations

- act harmonious and diplomatic all the time but deep down they throw mental tantrums because no one truly “gets” what they’re really trying to say

- know how to subtly control conversations and twist situations to maintain the upper hand without getting their hands dirty

- fantasize about perfect relationships and scenarios but are too scared about speaking up on what’s wrong in the real ones

- have a bad habit of saying “i’m fine” no matter how much mental turmoil they’re facing, because they think vulnerability is a weakness

- big or small decisions can leave them trapped in an endless loop of “what if” thinking

- in their head every word has to be carefully chosen to avoid sounding stupid or offending someone, questioning every sentence before it leaves them to their mouth which can result in silence instead of speaking

- they often feel mentally exhausted because their thoughts are never just for them, but filtered through how they think others will react

- often come up with perfect ways to say things but keep it quiet or water it down to the point of it losing its impact

- feel like people would reject them if they knew how they really were so they hide behind pleasant words and shallow conversations

- often feel like its hard to trust their own mind because it constantly plays devil’s advocate with their ideas and thoughts

- rely on others to voice what they’re thinking instead of owning their opinions; may manipulate conversations or guide others to say what they’re too afraid to say themselves

- dodge clear and direct communication because clarity feels risky; often keep things vague or open-ended in case they change their minds later, but can lead them to feel misunderstood and isolation from deep connection

- may struggle with not knowing what they truly believe or think

- often find it hard to start projects or learn subjects because their mind pulls them into multiple directions, away from what’s practical or immediate; their concentration is fragmented

- mentally project their own unspoken real feelings to the point of making others feel responsible for them

- constantly apologizing, often not because they’re truly sorry but because it’s the easiest way to avoid conflict

- have the ability of saying a lot while revealing absolutely nothing about themselves, kinda like speaking like a politician

- prefer literature based on interpersonal dynamics, especially romance and psychology; prefer to read alone

Scorpios feel debilitated by their yearning for vulnerability, yet they fear losing power.

- people may find their way of speaking captivating, or mentally draining, because it feels like it has layers of meaning

- others may feel like they’re untrustworthy because it always seems like they’re holding something back

- can’t stand the thought of being caught of guard so they secretly manipulate situations from behind the scenes, mentally plotting 10 moves ahead

- often feel exhausted because their brain never shuts off from detective mode; they’re always analyzing, digging beneath the surface, and trying to uncover hidden motives; burnt out trying to figure everything out before anyone else does

- often don’t even trust their own mind, analyzing their own thoughts for hidden meanings or motives; often hiding things more than anyone else, especially subconsciously where they can’t decipher easily

- if someone crosses them, on purpose or unintentionally, they won’t know until it’s too late; they mentally keep score and deliver payback when people least expect it

- tend to keep their thoughts and feelings tightly controlled, even for years, where they can suffer in silence alone because many just won’t know the depth of their inner turmoil [ can eventually blow up in very destructive ways ]

- often want others to open up to them about their vulnerabilities, but shut down and retreat when it comes to their own

- they don’t have to say much to control a situation, their presence always feels like it’s watching, calculating, and influencing others to bend to their will, without they themselves even realizing their manipulation

- lock away their most intense thoughts to point of being unable to share them with the ones closest to them

- master of subtext, meaning that they often communicate in riddles, metaphors, and hints because they expect others to read between the lines but when this fails they can end up feeling misunderstood, frustrated, refusing to clarify

- seem detached but internally they’re intensely focused on the emotions and motives of those around them

Sagittarius gets isolated by being like the absent-minded professor with grand ideas yet little follow-through or tact.

- tend to turn conversations into lengthy monologues about abstract concepts that often lead others confused

- often jump from ideas, like going from traveling ideas to the meaning of life

- have a knack for seeing the silver lining in everything, even when it’s completely inappropriate, which can feel like they’re not taking things seriously because they’re too dismissive or naive

- often speak their mind without a filter, and while honesty is admirable it can come off tactless and leave others feeling uncomfortable or exposed

- they often use foreign phrases [ things they picked up from different cultures ] or use esoteric references in their speech, which showcases their love for travel and learning but can alienate others or themselves

- often retreat into their own thoughts to avoid reality, which can lead them to zone out in conversations

- procrastinators with a plan; they come up with great ideas and plans but can drag their feet when it comes to following through with them

- they typically share their experiences in a way that jumps from points without connecting them in easy ways to follow, like missing the punchline or key takeaways

- often focus on what could be rather than what is

- seem curious, like asking probing questions, but act dismissive when it comes to anything deep or emotional

- have inconsistent opinions because their thoughts change frequently, leading others to question their commitment or conviction in ideas, people, or situations

- tend to turn every conversation into a philosophical debate; love to challenge other people’s beliefs for the fun of it, pushing buttons to provoke thought

- their sense of humor is usually unconventional or borderline inappropriate, since they can find humor in the absurd

- often fail to acknowledge practical limitations

- their attention can wander mid-conversation

- can be charming yet inconsistent; people may enjoy their company but feel like they’re unreliable

- often regurgitate information without context

- tend to be interested in the darker side of philosophy, exploring taboo topics that others shy away from; seek truth in uncomfortable places that can either enlighten or alienate others around them

- enjoy playing Devil’s Advocate, especially when it comes to widely accepted beliefs

- often shift between being incredibly optimistic and cynically realistic

- often convey deep truths in a prophetic manner

- use humor as a coping mechanism to navigate the absurdities of life

Capricorns feel isolated by their need to avoid whats emotional or abstract in function.

- tend to approach everything so seriously, in a way that can seem cold or detached

- like mental archivist; really good at retaining details but tend to reference obscure facts or rules

- their internal dialogue is harsh and judgmental, so they can be hesitancy in conversation since they critique their own thoughts before voicing them

- converse with a shield up, wary of criticism so they can sound overly defensive or make others feel like they’re walking on eggshells around them

- often alienate others who seek empathy or connection because they tend to dismiss emotional expressions as too impractical

- prefer to watch and analyze than actively participate in discussions

- hard to see visionary or dreamy side of them because they heavily weight their big ambitions with practicality

- their sense of humor is often sarcastic and dry; it can sound harsh or uninviting

- often feel like they’re not qualified enough to voice their thoughts, like imposter syndrome

- analyze everything to the last detail before engaging in discussions, which can lead to them being paralyzed by overthinking

- chronic pessimist, focusing on pitfalls and obstacles in every situation

- rarely let their complex thoughts or emotions show

- often have long pauses or overly rehearsed speech

- can come off condescending because they overly critical at times, or at least sound that way when they’re giving practical insights

- often turn conversations towards what could go wrong rather than what can go well

- prefer to process their thoughts internally than aloud, so they can come off withdrawn or uninterested in social interactions; others can see them as unfriendly or detached when they’re simply deep in thought or think better in solitude

- have no problem delivering the hard truths, which can make them seem brutally honest and blunt

- speak softly but when they speak it has a certain weight to it that it compelling, even if the delivery is understated

- often use dark humor as a coping mechanism

- when they share their experiences or engage in storytelling they often focus on the facts than the feelings involved

- good at adapting their communication style to their audience, but this can make it seem like they have a facade

- often question established norms or beliefs

- tend to feel like they carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, so often steer conversations towards topics related to duty and obligation

- often reflect on the past and draw lessons from them in conversation, which can make discussions feel nostalgic or stuck in time rather than moving forward

Aquarius get debilitated by their unconventional, and sometimes bizarre, way of approaching conversations and problems.

- often have unconventional ideas that others find bizarre since it veers off the beaten path

- often voice radical opinions because of their strong desire to challenge the status quo

- their way of speaking is often filled with abstract concepts and metaphors

- often shift between being optimistic about the future and cynical about humanity

- their sense of humor is probably quirky and offbeat, coming off as the “wild card” in conversations; some may find it hilarious while others find it strange or inappropriate

- often retreat into their own thoughts because they’re more comfortable analyzing conversations or their own thoughts in solitude

- question everything, even ideas others accept without hesitation

- often have great ideas about how to improve the world but struggle to put them into action

- approach conversations with a logical and almost clinical way, which can lead to emotions feeling dismissed, as they prioritize rationality over empathy

- probably excel in digital communication, finding it easier to express their thoughts through technology than face-to-face, which can create gaps in personal interactions

- often express conflicting thoughts in the same breath

- their storytelling may jump from one topic to the other without warning

- may find it hard to articulate their bold dreams clearly

- they ask a lot of questions but their curiosity seems impersonal, like they’re more interested in collecting information than genuine engagement

- tend to feel overwhelmed by all the knowledge they collect without sorting or using well

- often drift into musing about abstract and philosophical topics

- often speak passionately about social issues but have an unconventional approach to them

- tends to provoke thought and debate by challenging societal norms and intellectual conventions, which can create friction with those who value stability and tradition in conversations

- the depth of their brilliance often lies beneath the surface, where most may never see

- they can come off socially awkward because the bring deep philosophical discussions into casual conversations

- may create their own slang or unique way of expressing that few understand

- may have underlying anxieties about how their thoughts are perceived by others, under their confident detachment

- often present solutions that others find impractical to implement or even discuss

Pisces feel isolated because of their perspectives that transcend reality and logic.

- their mind often drifts into fantasy, making it hard to stay grounded in reality

- express their thoughts from an intuitive place which can make it hard for others who prefer straightforward dialogue or logic

- their speech can shift rapidly depending on their feelings, which can lead to moments of clarity followed but confusion

- tend to speak with abstract metaphors and poetic language

- when faced with uncomfortable truths they may retreat daydreams or fantasies

- often pick up on subtle emotions and underlying currents in conversation, which can help others feel seen but may overwhelm them if the feelings are too intense

- their thoughts can be easily swayed by others due to their empathetic nature

- often drawn to discussions about spirituality, mysticism, and the metaphysical

- adapt their speech to mirror those around them, which can make it hard to pin down their true beliefs or personality

- their humor tends to be whimsical and unpredictable, rooted in surreal observations that others may struggle to find to understand their comedic perspective

- may find mental clarity when there’s confusion or chaos; good at articulating thoughts amid chaotic situations

- often hesitate to express their thoughts out of fear of invalidation or not being accepted

- often tell stories in ways that seem to blur the lines between reality and imagination

- tend to be interested in obscure subjects like astronomy, mythology, and the paranormal

- often approach issues in a non-linear way, providing innovative ideas that others may not consider

- often struggle with sensory overload, especially in conversations

- tend to dwell on abstract concepts and existential questions

- express their thoughts more through feelings than words, like a lyrical communicator

- often have flashes of insight that seems lime divine inspiration

- their advice may lean more towards emotional support rather than practical solutions

- often prefer to remain quiet in groups and absorb the the energy and dynamics rather than participate

- their mind is like a battleground of conflicting thoughts that may spill into their speech

[s1ithers]

—Was sending an apostate to poison Eamon your duty as well?

obsessed with how fast she turns on him after the alienage quest tells you repeatedly how the templars were turning a blind eye. mother superior knows which way the wind blows. ice cold

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by. 

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did. 

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief. 

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?" 

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties. 

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal. 

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

[bro-atz]

morning juice [bro's 1k — wooyoung]

in which: you and wooyoung share more than just breakfast.

pair: wooyoung/afab!reader

word count: 1.9k

content: smut, reader is in an open relationship with wooyoung's roommate, kitchen sex, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact!

Wooyoung knew that you and his roommate weren’t exclusive. While you weren’t seeing anyone else for the time being, his roommate would occasionally hook up with other girls every so often. Wooyoung asked you multiple times why you didn’t decide to do the same, and you would always tell him that it was because you didn’t find anyone else that appealing yet.

What you didn’t know was that Wooyoung kept asking you that question because he wanted to ask you out, but he couldn’t figure out exactly how to phrase it. Were you open to actually dating, or were you only looking for casual relationships like the one you had with his roommate? No matter how hard he tried to figure it out, he couldn’t, so Wooyoung just decided to keep his mouth shut because he didn’t want to lose his friendship with you.

There was one thing about your relationship with his roommate that bugged him though, and that was the fact that he could hear you both whenever you hooked up. You were both pretty loud, and everything that he could hear turned him the fuck on— and he was ashamed to say that he beat himself off a couple times when he heard your melodious moans and sighs through the thin walls of his apartment.

One morning, he woke up to hear the two of you giggling in his roommate’s bedroom. His eyebrow twitched with slight irritation the louder your giggling got. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh like that. He wanted to hear that laugh while you laid in his arms and hugged him close so early in the morning. Was that too much to ask?

Begrudgingly, Wooyoung got out of bed to get started with his day. He trudged to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared mindlessly into the fridge. He didn’t know what to eat, so he just left the fridge open and continued to stare at the contents inside as his roommate entered the kitchen.

“Hey, if you’re not going to grab anything, close the fridge,” he lectured before closing the door in front of Wooyoung’s face.

“I was trying to figure out what to eat,” Wooyoung responded as he frowned.

“Well, don’t waste electricity.”

Wooyoung turned and faced his roommate, only to see that he was dressed and ready to head out. He looked at him, his face the epitome of a question mark.

“Where are you going this early in the morning?”

“I got a breakfast date. I’ll see ya later.”

With that, Wooyoung’s roommate left the apartment, leaving Wooyoung slightly flabbergasted. How could he just leave you here to go on a date with someone else? It felt wrong, but he wasn’t the one in an open relationship with you, so who was he to judge? Wooyoung turned back to the fridge and finally settled on grabbing a couple of fruits from the fridge and making himself a fruit salad.

He was peeling oranges when you sauntered into the area. You stifled a yawn and greeted him.

“Morning, Wooyoung,” you said sleepily.

“Morning…”

Wooyoung was still focused on the oranges when you sat in the bar stool at the end of the kitchen island. When you sat down, he finally looked up at you, and he immediately smirked as he popped an orange slice into his mouth.

“Did you sleep in my shirt? That’s hot,” Wooyoung said as soon as he laid eyes on you.

“Oh, yeah, sorry I borrowed— Sorry, did you just say “that’s hot”?” you stopped mid sentence as soon as Wooyoung’s words fully processed in your head.

“I mean, yeah. You usually wear Yunho’s shirts whenever you spend the night. The fact that you’re wearing mine… You look really hot, Y/N.”

Your face went red. You avoided eye contact with him and tugged at the hem of his shirt. You could barely let out a weak thank you, making the other man laugh at your reaction.

“You can’t take a compliment, Y/N?”

You kept your gaze on your lap as you shook your head. Wooyoung looked at you a little more closely, his heart skipping a beat as he suddenly felt a surge of courage course through his body. He wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and approached you. He held the bottom of your shirt, immediately making you snap your eyes to him.

“When are you going to give me my shirt back, then?” Wooyoung asked.

“Uh, I d-don’t— Sh-should I wash it first?” you stuttered.

“I don’t know… I kind of want my shirt back now.”

You blinked a couple of times, your brain unable to process what you were hearing. The words then flew out of your mind when he tugged your— his— shirt upwards slowly. You stared at him with wide eyes as he maintained eye contact with you, his intentions (finally) extremely clear to you.

“Is that okay?” Wooyoung asked. “Can I have my shirt back now?”

Gulping, you nodded. Wooyoung pulled the shirt off, revealing your bare breasts and leaving you in nothing but your panties. He let the shirt fall to the ground and immediately cupped your breasts, a soft exhale leaving your lungs as he massaged your breasts. You uttered profanities under your breath the more Wooyoung kneaded. He leaned in close to you, his lips teasing yours. You tilted your head and tried to kiss him, but he moved away right as your lips brushed his, making you whine slightly.

“You sure about that, Y/N?” Wooyoung asked teasingly. “You sure you want to cross this line with me?”

“Nngh, can you please just kiss me?” you complained.

“I want verbal confirmation from you, Y/N.”

“Yes, Wooyoung. I want to cross this line with you.”

Wooyoung smirked. He finally connected his lips to yours, electricity running through your body. You moaned and ran your fingers through his hair as you deepened the kisses, the man leaning into you to the point where you almost fell off the stool.

“Wait,” he whispered breathlessly as he moved his hands from your breasts to your waist.

He lifted you so that you were sitting on the kitchen countertop before smashing his lips against yours. He kissed you hungrily, his hands gripping your thighs and waist repeatedly as he restlessly made out with you.

“Fuck, Wooyoung!” you sighed as he trailed his kisses down your neck, his hand moving up to massage your breast again.

Wooyoung couldn’t even be bothered to respond— he was so focused on devouring and marking every part of you because he had been wanting this for God knows how long. With one hand on your breast, the other went into your panties, his fingers stroking your cunt roughly, impatiently. You could barely support yourself on the kitchen island, so you clung to him instead, your hands gripping his shoulders.

You whimpered and whined when Wooyoung moved away from you. He completely removed his sweatpants, revealing his red, throbbing cock raring to go before quickly pulling your panties off. You licked your lips and reached for him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him close to you. Wooyoung smiled slyly before kissing you, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he rubbed his cock along your entrance. Your legs quivered every time the tip of his cock brushed against your clit, tingles spreading through your stomach the more he rubbed. While you loved the feeling, you needed more.

Luckily, Wooyoung was losing his patience as well. When he deemed you wet enough, he moved away from you so he could slide his cock inside you, making you press your hands flat on the countertop to support yourself. You moaned softly when you felt him enter you, the tingles only getting stronger. You leaned your head back and felt your mind start to empty out as Wooyoung began rutting into you. He moved one of your legs so that it was resting on his shoulder, giving him better access to your cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him hiss, the sound of the profanity leaving his lips making every cell in your body react to him. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip and nodded, a whine leaving your lungs as you agreed with him. You had never heard your cunt sound quite like it did in that moment, squelching with every thrust from the man before you. You leaned back onto the counter top and moaned, your eyes fluttering close and filling the darkness with sparkles. You really were so close. You brought your hand in between your legs and rubbed your clit as Wooyoung focused on keeping his steady pace, the power of his hips only getting stronger. His hands went from your waist to your thighs so he could pull you close to him every time his hips moved. The added stimulation was just enough for you to push him away and let out a loud cry as you squirted onto the countertop, your arousal dripping off the edge and to the floor.

“F-Fuck, Wooyoung!” you cried as you creamed around his cock when he re-entered you, your legs trembling uncontrollably. He let go of your thigh, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, and his hands moved to your breasts to grip them tightly as his thrusts got faster. “ Yes, yes! J-Just like that!”

Wooyoung was grunting, high-pitched whines leaving him every so often as his thrusts got more sporadic. He was truly losing his mind— when you clenched your walls around his cock, he was pretty much ready to cum, but he didn’t want to stop, not when the friction between his cock and your cunt was filling him with insurmountable pleasure.

Yet, he was fucked when you pushed yourself up and quickly held onto him before smashing your lips against his. It certainly did not help that you were rolling your body towards him, changing his angle ever so slightly. As you kissed him, you took his lower lip in between your teeth and bit down lightly, completely breaking Wooyoung. He quickly held your waist and pulled you close as he thrust rapidly into you before cumming, the man moaning against your lips. He had actually tried to pull out before cumming, but you clenched your walls again, stopping him midway through. He came inside you, his cock shuddering as his seed spurt inside you.

“Ah… Fuck,” you moaned as your pleasure slowly died down. “That was so good…”

“Shit,” Wooyoung hissed as he pressed his head into your shoulder. “I came inside…”

“That’s okay, Wooyoung,” you responded as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don’t mind at all.”

“You sure?”

“With you, I’m always sure.”

Wooyoung let out a low exhale as he pulled out of you, his cum seeping out of your cunt and mixing with your arousal before dripping onto the ground. He was completely enamored with the way your red cunt was leaking white, his fingers spreading your lips open to let the rest of him drip out.

“Wooyoung, you’re making a mess,” you muttered with slight embarrassment as you tried to close your legs.

“My kitchen, my problem,” he replied immediately.

“Still…”

Wooyoung couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction. He ended up stopping, allowing you to close your legs and shed your embarrassment. When you slipped off the kitchen countertop and tried to situate yourself though, Wooyoung pinned you in place, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he leaned into you.

“Where are you going? I’m not finished with you yet.”

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[onmykneesformatt]

vanilla - c.s.

requested: yes!!

synopsis: after a lengthy relationship, chris decides to try and surprise you on your 7 month anniversary. it doesn’t go how he planned, and he feels bad.

warnings: SMUT OH MY FUCK. just very aggressive (no major abuse or violence), degrading, choking, hair-pulling, overstimulation, use of safe word, aftercare, angst (happy ending tho!!), i don’t think anything else but lmk!!

a/n: i think it’s about time i write smth about chris and feed y’all. so, eat up!! (also i tried to put a picture and it literally wouldn’t let me😭)

you and chris never really thought about kinks or anything like that. you had talked about it, but the furthest you two ever went was just filming it once or twice. even then, it was still very vanilla. it was soft, enjoyable, and not very rough.

chris wanted to change that.

“so, wait. are we going somewhere?”

“we can, but that’s not the surprise.”

chris kind of smirked, knowing that his surprise was not something you expected.

“can you just tell me? it almost dark out and we’be barely done anything all day except for you making me a nice breakfast. which, i did appreciate by the way.”

“you’re welcome, and no. i’m not telling you.”

he tapped his fingertips together and chuckled lightly. he liked surprising you. he’d done it multiple times before. a bouquet on your door step, a new pair of expensive heels, even flying home early from boston and not telling you. it was his thing.

and tonight was a surprise.

-

at 9:30 pm, you started to get ready for bed. you almost did it in protest for how you and chris barely did anything today.

“oooh, what’s this? toner? replace the t with a b.”

he giggled. how dare he? after not giving you a major day like he does every other anniversary?

you kept a straight face, not breaking eye contact with your face in the mirror as you kept applying serums and creams.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, chris.”

he knew that whenver you ended a sentence with his name, you were mad.

“look, how about i meet you in the bedroom in five minutes, and make it up to you?”

you let a little smile show, remembering that your surprise to him was a peachy-orange lingerie set that hugged you in all the right places and showed all the right skin.

“fine.”

-

it started slow and sweet, like always.

but it slowly turned into more.

he went from having you on your back with him lightly laying on you to flipping you onto all fours and ripping the new lingerie set off— literally.

“chris-“

“shut up and take it. i know you can, slut.”

it felt good, the way he was pounding into you.

what didn’t feel good was him calling you the one word you didn’t like. after he started pulling your hair, it all felt real.

were you really just some toy he used? was this his breaking point where he realized he didn’t actually like or respect you like he pretended?

“chris, i don’t-“

he pushed your face into the pillow, tightening his grip on your hair.

“i said shut the fuck up. god, you really are just some slut who thinks she can do anything she wants.”

tears started welling in your eyes. they only strengthened when he started swatting your ass and digging his free hand into your back.

it hurt. like, actually hurt. but he wouldn’t listen.

he was never like this. chris? be aggressive? especially in such a vulnerable moment? never. until now.

after almost suffocating with your face in the pillow for what felt like hours, you tried to shift your face over just enough to be able to breathe. it was hard, with his grip on your hair pushing your head down into it.

eventually, you were able to properly breathe. you started breathing heavier and heavier. not from pleasure, but from overstimulation. from pain.

“i- i can’t! chris!”

he could barely hear you over his grunts and the sounds of skin slapping loudly.

“cant.. can’t what? slut can’t use her words now?”

you tried, but he was causing you so much pain that the tears were taking over. so much so, that you just broke.

what he thought were breaths and tears of pleasure started to settle in, and he finally realized. your pillow and face wet with a taste of salt, and your heart pounding so bad you started shaking.

he slowed down, moving your messy, wet hair out of your face.

“vanilla! vanilla!”

your safe word. you never needed it before, but you guys thought of it after having sex the first or second time. he always wanted you to know you were in control of what was happening too. in a sort of inside joke/mockery, he made it “vanilla”.

“hey- hey.”

he took a second to gather himself and pull out, sitting next to you on the bed. your body fell limp on the sheets.

“what’s wrong-“

“no!”

he tried to rub your shoulder, but your yelling frightened him. it should’ve. the way he caused you the pain he did was horrible.

“hey-“

“just- stop! what-“

your crying intensified, leaving him with a concerned look.

“what made you think that was okay?!”

you tried to stand, stabling yourself with a hand on the bed and the other holding a throw blanket to cover your body.

“what do you mean-“

“what do i mean? chris- you just.. started going crazy! it felt good at first, but you pulled my hair, you dug your nails into my back! you- you called me a slut!”

“i thought-“

“no you didn’t! you didn’t think at all!”

it finally hit him.

that word.

the one word he promised to never use.

“baby- i didn’t mean any of it!”

“then why’d you do it!”

tears turning into anger at his stupidity slowly dried up.

“i thought it would be a nice surprise for our anniversary! but, i’m sorry. i forgot about that word.”

that word was used against you everyday in highschool, ever since you gave some kid a handjob at the park. anytime you wore something even slightly revealing. it opened a floodgate for name-calling.

the tears started up again once silence filled the bedroom.

again, chris was never like this. you always thought he would provide the comfort you so desperately needed in your life. however, it seemed like he thought otherwise.

chris stood up, walked around the bed, and engulfed you in his arms. after realizing that he truly didn’t mean it (doesn’t make it okay, but it’s good he realized he was in the wrong), you hugged him back.

“how about we clean up. can i help you with that?”

you sniffled while stepping back from him. you dropped the blanket and wiped your eyes.

“yeah.”

you spoke softly, still trying to catch light breaths.

he grabbed your hand, leading you the bathroom.

he started the shower, grabbing your coconut body wash out of the bathroom closet along with a soft, white towel.

after getting you into the perfectly-warm shower, he started to clean you up. he didn’t let you move a muscle. he made sure you were fully clean and taken care of before even thinking about himself. he grazed your body with the loofah, making sure every inch was perfectly covered.

“i really am sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to take it that far. i think i just got too excited. i’ll never do it again, i can promise you that.”

“a warning would’ve been nice. i get why you did it. throw in a little variety, or whatever. but that word really set me off.”

“i know, i know.”

he kissed the back of your damp head, making sure you knew he meant his sorrow.

“i forgot. but, no excuse. how about now i dry you off and get you into some comfy clothes, hm?”

his tone was low but sweet. your heart stopped racing, your breath caught up, and your mind was at ease.

“okay.”

after he dried you off, still not letting you do it yourself, he grabbed your hand to lead back into the bedroom. while you were sat patiently on the edge of the bed, he rummaged through drawers and shelves looking for your favorite sleep shirt and a pair of under wear with comfortable shorts.

“this good?”

“yes. thank you.”

“stand up, please.”

you dropped your towel, letting him glide the extra large graphic tee over your head. you lifted each leg as he slid the underwear up, then doing the same with the loose shorts.

“get comfy in bed, i got some treats for you earlier.”

“really? thank you, chris.”

“anything for my girl. she deserves nothing but the best, so i try all for her.”

he kissed your forehead before you slid into the bed, pulling the thick comforter over your body and turning on your favorite show.

-

you fell asleep in eachothers arms, but not until he gave you a lengthy apology.

you know he didn’t mean it, but he needed you to remember he wouldn’t do it again.

his heartbeat under your head lulled you into a deep slumber. a soft, orange light coming from the lamp in the corner of the bedroom mixed with the tv still playing your favorite show made just enough light for you to not have any other worries that night. an open bag of the tastiest chocolate on the nightstand next to two open soda cans had filled your stomach and your heart. the soft laugh tracks in the background and fan lightly blowing on you gave you the comfort you needed.

the biggest comfort was chris’ concern.

he loves you.

you love him.

that’s all you need.

-

AHHHH ITS DONEEEEEEE!!!!! i pray that this is as good as y’all are expecting 😭😭 but seriously though, i thank y’all for the support. i’m at 300 followers already (WHAT THE FUCK) and i couldn’t have done it without you guys. love y’all!! mwah!!💋❣️🌺

taglist: @sleepysturniolo @suyqa @jessie-essie @sturnsobsessed

sorry if i missed anyone that wanted to be tagged!!

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Your two best friends come by to help make you feel better… you hadn’t thought about your impending heat. Pairing: Alaskan Malamute!Mingi x Netherland Dwarf Rabbit (fem)!Reader x Bernese Mountain Dog!Yunho Tropes: hybrid au, friends to lovers au, abo au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, hybrids, pet names, small emotional breakdown, implied mxm Smut Warnings: heat/rut sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, biting kink, knotting, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (m receive), implied cockwarming, somnophilia, predator-prey play Word Count: 3,280 Note: Happy Halloween enjoy some hybrid smut!! Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for beta reading this!! suffer with me tag  🐾 @kwanisms @pyeonghongrie @mejuii

You toss your phone back down on your bed and try to will your headache away. You’re not sure what caused it, but you know you want it gone. At some point, you start to drift off into a space between awake and asleep. Although it doesn’t help much, it does allow you a bit of relief. The only thing keeping you conscious right now is the rather sensitive state of your small tan ears.  Each time a bit of your hair brushes them the wrong way or your pillows rest against them oddly, you find yourself tossing again to try to remedy the uncomfortable feeling. Everything is loud too. Each sound resonates about ten times louder than it should. The cars driving outside your apartment complex are revving too loud, and the music’s base is too heavy. Your neighbor’s newborn seems to be screaming every other second. Why they’re so sensitive today, you have no idea. 

Yunho and Mingi are the best friends you could ever ask for. Not many friends would go out of their way to get you fresh food and prepare it for you just because of a headache. Even better, they don’t need you to come open the door for them. At first, your other prey hybrid friends thought you were insane for giving not one, but two predator hybrids the code to your home. If you didn’t trust them, they wouldn’t have the code. You do, though.

You smell and hear them before you can see them. The moment they’re outside your apartment door, you can smell Yunho’s comforting pine scent intertwining with Mingi’s soothing Spruce scent. Something about their scents together always makes you feel warm and safe. As soon as you smell them, you hear one of them typing in the code while Mingi laughs at something Yunho has said. You decide to go greet them despite your blaring headache. Pulling on one of the severely too-big hoodies you stole from Yunho, you trudge your way out to the living room.

“There’s our little fuzzy-” Mingi stops mid-sentence.

You don’t respond to them. You walk straight forward and wrap your arms around Yunho’s waist. Due to how much smaller you are than both of them, you also hide your face in his chest, completely enveloping yourself in his pine scent. There’s a hint of pure dark chocolate under the pine, but you’re so out of it at the moment that you don’t think too deeply about it. 

“Bun, are you okay?” Yunho adds, “You, um… your scent is a bit…”

“I feel like shit.” You whine.

You can’t see it, but Yunho nods toward your calendar, telling Mingi to go check it. Mingi’s eyes widen, and he looks back at the Bernese hybrid. You smell both Yunho and Mingi’s scents spike sharp. When you pull your face away from Yunho’s chest, you see him already looking down at you. His eyes are focused and unfocused at the same time. His pupils practically swallow his irises. The bunny in you makes your nose start twitching. You’re not afraid of him. You’re just a bit lost as to why he’s looking at you like that. When you try to turn to face where Mingi is standing, Yunho growls genuinely and pins his ears back.

“Yunho, let her go. We should leave the fruit and-” Mingi tries to reason, though his tone betrays him.

“You know damn well we aren’t letting this cute little bunny be all alone right now.” Yunho responds, eyes fixated on you still. “Bun, why did you let us come here when your heat is supposed to come any hour now.”

“I- um, I’ve been busy with work and-” You take a deep breath, hoping to calm yourself. “You know I’ve been busy with work… I forgot it was supposed to come today.”

You hear Mingi moving back over, practically pinning you between the two large dog hybrids. Even if you didn’t hear him move, you can feel Mingi’s body heat radiating onto you. It only serves to make you feel even hotter.

“Fuzzy, if you don’t want us to be here, tell us to leave.”

You don’t respond for a few moments. The words you so desperately need right now seem to be nowhere. The hood of Yunho’s hoodie falls off your head, exposing your small, tan rabbit ears that are pressed against the top of your head. Mingi places a hand on the top of your head, fingers slotting around your ears, making your head tip back further. You see his black and white Malamute ears peaking out from his messy fire orange and blonde hair. He seems a bit more relaxed than Yunho, who currently has a death grip on your waist. There’s the telltale sign of his sharpened spruce scent with a tinge of winter air to it. He’s far from calm right now.

“Don’t go.” You nearly whimper.

That’s all it takes for the Malamute hybrid to let out a low growl and practically attack you with a heated kiss. At first, you think about how uncomfortable it must be for him to bend so far forward to kiss you. Both dog hybrids’ scent completely surrounds you. It’s like a skin-tight cloak. You never want to escape it. Your lips are glossy with spit and puffy from how Mingi kissed you by the time he pulled away. You know you’re lost in your heat.  Your head feels foggy, and all you can think about is needing to get bred. Now. Yunho practically forces your head back toward his direction. Due to his height, he has to practically bend himself in half to kiss you, just like Mingi had to. 

“Should we take you to your room, little bunny?” Yunho growls into the kiss. 

“Alpha,” you whine, eyebrows furrowing together. 

Yunho lets out another low growl before you’re suddenly not in his arms. Mingi has taken it upon himself to take you into his instead and carry you away. You let your lips latch onto his throat, right against his primary scent gland. You catch a brief look at his fluffy black and white tail. It’s wagging in appreciation, but you know he’s far too influenced by your heat pheromones to notice it. As you nip at his skin lightly, you notice the heat radiating from Yunho, who’s hot on your trail. Before you even make it to your bedroom, Mingi pins you to the wall beside the door. Your feet are nowhere near the ground, so you opt to keep your legs wrapped around his waist. You go to speak, but the intensity of both their pheromones suddenly has your voice dying in your throat. All you can think to do is submit to them, ultimately baring your neck to them. 

“Such a good little bunny.” Mingi comments with a condescending tone, “You smell like fucking candied cherries. I can’t wait to get a bite.”

“Please.” You beg, “Bite me, fuck me, breed me full. I need you. Need both of you.” You ramble through the daze of your heat.

Neither of them responds. You’re so lost in your heat that you can only focus on their scents. They smell as if they’re just as in need of this as you are. Before you know it, you’re naked and spread out on your bed. Yunho is over you, grinding against your bare core. Mingi is beside you, giving attention to your chest. You’re dripping slick all over the bed and Yunho’s sweatpants. Mingi keeps whispering filthy nothings into your ear. You can’t make them out at the moment. 

Suddenly, Yunho’s body is off of yours, and you feel starkly cold compared to a few moments ago. You absolutely have a fever despite the sudden burst of cold, and you whine at the lack of contact. The Malamute hybrid happily takes his place. His lips litter small bites and kisses across your neck and chest. They wrap around your nipple, making you moan loudly. His teeth lightly tug at the sensitive peak, and you squirm at the feeling. Though, you don’t get far. Mingi has his hand pressed against your hip, keeping you in place.

“Mingi, you’re still half dressed. Move so I can fill our little cotton tail properly.” Yunho chuckles.

“Please, please, please.” You don’t know what you’re begging for exactly, but you need something.

Mingi moves a moment later. Just as you’re about to whine about the lack of contact again, you feel Yunho’s bare cock grinding against you’re soaked core.

“Do you need me to finger you open, Fuzzy?” he asks, rubbing his member between your pussy lips.

“No, just fuck me. Put a litter in me. Breed me, please, alpha. Need it, need it so bad.” 

You’re on the verge of tears, and despite Yunho’s rut haze, you find him wiping away a tear that did escape your eye. Seconds later, you feel him start to push his sizable member into you. Even with your heat, you find yourself struggling to take him. Inch by inch, he sinks into you. Slick gushes out of you, scenting the room with your sweet cherry scent mixed with Yunho’s pine and Mingi’s spruce. Your mouth falls open the moment he’s fully inside you.

“Fuzzy, do you think you can handle sucking me off while Yunho fucks you full?” Mingi asks, almost breathless.

You find yourself nodding and turning your head to the side. Mingi’s hard, leaking cock is already waiting for you. Leaning up slightly, you rest your head on his upper thigh, then take him in your mouth. His woodsy scent completely invades your nose, and it sends your eyes rolling back. Yunho presses his body weight against you and buries his face against the scent gland in your neck. You wrap one hand around the base of Mingi’s cock while the other threads through Yunho’s hair. You can feel his dark brown ears twitch at the contact.

“What if I claimed you right now, Bun?” He lets one of his canines graze against your scent gland, “You’d probably let me, wouldn’t you? Be my pretty little mate. Hang off my knot and give me a few pups?”

He only says it loud enough for you to hear it. Though, the way Mingi thrusts into your mouth, you aren’t sure Yunho had said it very quietly. You pull off of his cock a moment later to gasp for air.

“You’re so damn tiny compared to us. Do you really think you can handle getting knotted by both of us? You’re tiny little pussy can barely handle me as it is.” The Bernese hybrid teases.

“Yun,” You gasp when he gives a particularly hard thrust, “Please, fuck, please. Fuck me full, knot me!”

“Now, now, won’t you let me knot you too, Fuzzy?” Mingi practically growls.

You nod before taking him back in your mouth. His eyes darken when you give him wide lust-filled eyes. Yunho keeps spewing filthy words in your ear as he fucks you at a hard, rough pace. Each time Yunho thrusts into you, he forces you to take Mingi further into your mouth. There’s no physical way that you could take the entirety of Mingi in your mouth, so you take a break from sucking his cock and replace it with your hand to the best of your ability. You feel Yunho’s knot bump against your entrance with each thrust. All you can do is spread your legs further as if it’ll help you take his knot better.

“Fuck, Bun, I’m gonna cum. Do you want me to breed you? Fuck you full of a litter?” He questions through a groan. 

“Knot me, Yun,” you beg, tugging at his hair just behind his ears.

That’s all the permission he needs. A moment later, he cums deep inside you and pushes his knot into you. You have a momentary break in your heat only to immediately be sucked back into it when Mingi thrusts up into your hand. You can tell the Malamute hybrid isn’t far from cumming, so you take his tip back into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it. Mingi cums down your throat just as Yunho starts coming down from his high. 

“You didn’t cum yet, Bun,” he comments, reaching between your bodies to toy with your clit.

You grind against his knot. The feeling of him rubbing your clit mixed with grinding down on his cock sends you over the edge. You convulse under him and spout random unintelligible words. 

“Rest for a little, Fuzzy.” Mingi offers.

“But-”

“I’ll get to fuck you as soon as Yun’s knot goes down. Don’t worry about me,” he reminds you, “Take a little break while we have a break from our ruts.”

You rest for a few moments, Yunho’s knot still snug inside you. When you come back to, you’re no longer plugged up with Yunho’s knot. In fact, he’s not on you at all. Mingi is lapping at your pussy. You bury your hands in his long hair as if it’s second nature. His tail is lying up along his spine completely still. You know he’s either entranced in the moment or hyperfocused due to how still it is. 

“Min-” You interrupt yourself with a gasp.

“What did you just call me?” he growls.

“Alpha,” You whine, “Need your cock. Need your knot. Need-”

Mingi practically throws you to be face down ass up the moment the pleas leave your lips. Only then do you process Yunho beside you on the bed. He almost looks as if he’s unbothered. The tent in his new pair of clean sweats tells you otherwise. You’re about to reach for the elastic of the pants before you feel Mingi thrust into you in one fell swoop. A broken moan leaves your mouth at the intrusion. Any and all thoughts leave your mind as he immediately sets a bruising pace. Gripping onto Yunho’s thigh, you hope to keep any threads of sanity that remain.

“Pretty, tiny little bunny.” Mingi groans, “You gonna let me knot you too?”

“Alpha, please,” you whine, “Need your knot too.”

Yunho takes it upon himself to release his member again and slide closer to grant you what you want without asking. You’re more cockwarming him with your mouth than giving him a blow job, but either way, you see a smirk grow on his face. Had you been in any other setting, you’d want to smack that look off of his face. Now, though, it only makes you more desperate. 

Mingi’s grip on your hips is so tight you think there might be fingertip-sized bruises where he’s holding you. Reaching forward, he knots his fingers in your hair, being sure to be careful of your ears. Still, they’re sensitive. The moment he grazes them, you tip over the edge of another orgasm. Despite your muffled moans, he doesn’t stop or slow down. If anything, he speeds up more. Your thighs shake. If it hadn’t been for him holding you up, you would’ve absolutely collapsed. You try to look up at Yunho through your eyelashes, but Mingi is holding you down on the Bernese hybrid’s cock still. Tears spring from your eyes due to the lack of oxygen, but you absolutely love it. Mingi forces your head up and down on Yunho’s cock a few more times before the brunette cums down your throat. Only then does Mingi release your head.

“I’m gonna knot you now, pretty bunny,” he warns you.

Mingi thrusts a few more times before pushing his knot into you. A moment later, you feel his hot cum paint your walls. You whimper at the feeling and feel yet another orgasm roll over you. You can feel the cocky yet exhausted smirks on both dog hybrids’ faces.

“Let’s reposition, Fuzzy,” Mingi whispers gently, a stark contrast to how he was just speaking to you.

You nod and feel Mingi pull your body up against his before carefully maneuvering so that you’re sat in his lap rather than being face down on the mattress. Yunho leans over and gives you a soft kiss before leaning back a bit and placing a small kiss against Mingi’s bare shoulder.

“Do you have a new perfume?” Yunho asks, brushing a few knots out of your hair.

“Um, no?” You respond, “Did my scent change?” 

You start to panic a bit. You know, if they did manage to knock you up already, your scent wouldn’t change for at least a week. Nothing’s impossible, though.

“You smell more flowery than cherry.” Mingi comments, half asleep.

“Mingi,” Yunho says with a concerned tone, “You can smell that too?”

“Mmm,” Mingi responds, “Cherries and… tulips? I love it.” he adds, wrapping his arms tighter around your middle. His arms practically cover your entire middle section.

“Bun, can you smell me or Mingi?” panic starts to invade his voice.

Something overtakes you, and you tears well up in your eyes again. This time it’s due to pure panic. You knew if you smelled something other than a person’s characteristic scent, that meant that they were your mate. Nothing could’ve prepared you to smell a secondary scent on both of your dog hybrid friends. Your typically sweet cherry scent must’ve soured because, one moment, Mingi had his face buried in your neck. The next, he was sat up fully and fixated on you.

“Yunho…” you say, trying not to let the tear fall or your voice betray you.

“What can you smell?”

Your bedroom stays silent.

“Fuzzy,” Mingi sighs, “No matter what, the three of us will always be friends. Tell us what you smell.”

“Both of you.” You admit, “Yunho has a dark chocolate scent with his pine. You have that crisp winter air scent with your spruce. I don’t know what that means or what to do about it, but if you both-”

Mingi turns your face and kisses you softly.

“We’ve known for a while, Yunho and I, that we can smell each other’s secondary scent. But now we know all three of us can smell the others…” Mingi explains, “Now we know we have two mates.”

Mingi’s knot had gone down, so you slip off of him to sit on your knees in front of the two large dog hybrids. Your eyes flit back and forth between them, trying to determine if this is some twisted joke. It’s not.

“Two mates,” you reiterate.

“Two mates,” Yunho confirms with a slight nod, “Two mates who are still very much in rut with a cute, tiny bunny mate that needs to be bred.”

You let out a squeak before Yunho and Mingi practically pounce you. There are about a million worse ways to spend your heat. Spending it with your two loving, caring mates is the only way you wish to spend it for the rest of your life.

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[shdysders]

bruises

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which you've been ignoring tara, and she can't figure out why.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of abuse, violence & bruises.

Tara knew something was wrong the second you didn't answer her text she sent before she entered first period. You always answered.

You didn't share any classes except one that was held once a week, so she barely had time to search you up in between the periods. In fact, she wasn't sure you had shown up to school at all.

Mindy had told her she had seen a glimpse of you during lunch, but nothing more than that.

Tara had excepted for everything to go back to normal when late evening arrived, but that was not the case.

She had been laying sprawled out on her bed for hours, ever since she had eaten dinner with Sam. Waiting for you to come knocking on her window, like you did every night.

You and Tara had agreed for you to sneak in through the window any time you visited, which was mainly because Sam would freak out if she knew Tara was seeing someone she hadn't met properly. But she had to keep you away from her older sister, Sam would scare you away.

You would pass by her window almost every night, and when you couldn't make it, you would text Tara and tell her that you were unable to come. But you hadn't texted her today, which made her believe that you were coming by.

Tara sighed as she checked the time on her phone, it was almost midnight.

tara <3 (11:14pm): are u not coming?

She longly stared at her phone screen after she had seen it, bottom lip trapped between her teeth, hoping for the writing bubbles to appear. But when two minutes passed of just staring without any response, she groaned loudly in frustration, throwing the phone to the end of her bed.

However when her phone hit the mattress, a notification popped up, making her snatch it back in her hands. A small smile appearing on her face when she saw your name on it.

you <33 (11:17pm) no not today. sorry. i love you <3

The text made Tara feel disappointed and frustrated at the same time, the smile dropping quickly. She hadn't expected for you to show up considering the late time of the day, but a part of her thought you would at least give her an explanation on why you didn't come.

The night passed quickly and before she knew it, Tara was in class again. All her mind and worry focused on you.

By the time she had arrived home and had yet another dinner with Sam that was filled with questions about everything and everyone, she had sent you over a dozen of text messages.

You on the other hand, had only sent one. Stating that you were sick, and that's why you hadn't showed up to school. But Tara had a feeling that wasn't the only reason to it, maybe not the reason at all.

You had been sick multiple times during your relationship, and when you were you didn't tend to ignore her messages nor did you respond with short and dry sentences.

She knew something was wrong, but she knew better than to go to your house.

Your dad was a very violent person, and had been ever since your mother passed away a few years back. You had told Tara that he hadn't always been like that, he had been a great loving father before the tragic death of your mother. But instead of a therapist or mental help, he turned to alcohol. Which was the main cause for his violence.

He had threatened you with it multiple times, lashing out at you for doing the slightest things wrong. You had gotten used to it, but his loud voice and harsh tone always seemed to scare you.

That's why Tara didn't go to your house. She had tried before, when she planned to surprise you for your birthday last year. But she didn't even get a chance to knock on your window before she could see your figure squeezed into a corner, knees pressed up to your chest as your hands covered your ears. Your father was standing in front of you, screaming so loudly that Tara could hear is voice through the glass of the window, however she couldn't comprehend the words.

The next day Tara had told you about what she saw. You had brushed it off, telling her you were just being dramatic. However you did tell her that she probably shouldn't come over to your house, so you guys stuck with the idea of you sneaking through her window, and not the other way around.

After the day you had brushed it all off so smoothly, Tara thought she would never hear anything more about your father, or how your home life was. But she was wrong.

Because you told her everything that happened in your house. You told her what had happened, why it happened, and how it had happened.

There was multiple nights where you would cry into her chest, venting to her about all kinds of feelings.

Tara wished dearly that there was something she could do to fix it. But she there wasn't. She couldn't offer you to stay with her and Sam, and she didn't have enough money to buy herself her own apartment for the two of you; also because Sam wouldn't allow it.

All she could do was call the police or protective authorities, but when she had suggested the idea to you, you panicked and straightly begged her not to do that. You told her everything would get worse and that nobody would believe her if she did. So she didn't, even tho she strongly felt the need to.

There was nothing she could do, same as now. She couldn't come to your house nor tell Sam about her worries when it came to you.

Even though she knew the consequences that were about to occur, her worry got the best of her, which led to her taking the risk anyway.

She knew you weren't sick. Something was wrong, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

She climbed out of her own window, not caring for the heights or the way Sam would probably spank her if she found out she had snuck out. She needed to know why you were ignoring her.

It was a rather long walk to your house, considering the fact that Tara lived in the center of New York, meanwhile you lived a bit further outside the town.

After twenty minutes of walking she had finally managed to reach your house. With no remorse or hesitation she started to climb up the branches of the small tree just inches away from your window. Letting out a few grunts and sighs as all kinds of branches scratched her in the face.

When she reached the window, the only thing her eyes searched for was you. Which she immediately found the second she looked into the glass. Your figure was laying on your bed, eyes carefully scanning on the book you held in your hands.

She almost felt bad when she gently knocked on the window, you looked so peaceful. But your attention quickly shifted to the window as the sound of knocking filled the room.

You were quick to jump to your feet, approaching the window with a body filled with hesitation. Tara tried to shoot you a smile before you carefully opened the window, but she didn't get one in return.

When the window was open, you made sure to offer Tara your hand to pull her inside, which she happily accepted without any sort of uncertainty.

She didn't have a chance to look at your face until she had landed inside and finished wiping her hands on her jeans; brushing off any sort of tree detritus that had stuck to her hands while climbing. But when she did see your face, she immediately felt her mouth open in shock.

A massive black bruise covered your left eye, the eye itself was swollen and the bruise almost reached down to your cheekbone. Your lip was cut open, swollen as well.

"Y/n." Tara spoke softly voice laced with worry, trying to grasp your shoulder, but she only made it halfway before you pulled away.

You had completely forgotten about the huge difference in your face when you saw Tara in the window. She had that affect on you; making you forget about everything bad around you.

But when you saw her shocked stare and open mouth, you began to panic, being quick to turn around to face the wall, covering your whole face with your two hands.

"God.. Tara." You spoke shakily, feeling tears beginning to form around your eyes.

"Y/n.." She repeated, carefully walking towards you, but stopped moving when she heard your shaky voice beginning to speak again.

"Tara I just..I don't want you to look at me right now.." You let out a sob, you're right hand falling from your face, revealing the eye that was not bruised. "It's really ugly.." You sobbed again.

Tara lightly grabbed both of your arms, bringing you closer to her so she could gently put her forehead against yours, trying to encourage you to look into her eyes. But when she noticed you didn't and could just see the tears that slowly ran down your cheeks, she spoke up, feeling nothing but guilt and worry in her body.

"There's no one else I wanna look at.." She comforted, her hands carefully finding a place in your hair.

At that you slowly dragged your left hand down your face, revealing the dark bruise formed around your beautiful eye.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." She spoke up again, making your lips form into a pout as you tried to take in the whole situation.

Tara didn't hesitate before pulling you into a warm embrace, whispering apologies into your ear, not because she weren't there, but because she knew there was nothing she could do to stop this.

But you didn't care. As long as you had your Tara, you knew that you were okay.

[tojirights]

prompt: "can you feel what you're doing to me?" + "i really dont care. you look hot and im trying not to fuck you senseless right now."

tags: nsfw 18+, public sex

you were supposed to be working, scouting the area after multiple calls of suspicious activity. unfortunately for you, your first target was to scope out a local nightclub. it wasnt your scene, the music was obnoxious and people were too close to you. this was where gojo came in handy. no one dared to bother you with him at your hip. and he always had a way of distracting you from your job, strong hands gripping you at the hip as you swayed to the music. "see anything?" your eyes scan the busy scene, pressing against his chest so you can hear him better.

his breath is hot on your ear as he speaks, causing a chill to run up your spine. "mm, i really don't care..." he pulls your body flush against him. "can you feel what you're doing to me?" he asks, grinding into your ass and yes, you are now entirely too aware of his cock hard against you. "gojo-" you start, slightly annoyed that he can't stay professional for just one night. "ooh c'mon baby, drop the formality. you look hot and i’m trying really hard to not think about fucking you senseless." his voice drops low as he finishes his sentence, words hitting you low in your gut.

its nothing new, hooking up with gojo, but you at least try to keep some dignity about it. though, your core aches at the thought of him pulling you away right now. there was no real privacy, but gojo obviously didn’t care about that right now, his hands hiking your dress up just under the swell of your ass. "i could slip my cock right in, couldn't i?" he teases, pushing you so you lean forward, your ass so close yet too far. "you always get so wet just from a little teasing."

you'd love to tell gojo to fuck off, but there's another part of your body in control at the moment. with a groan, you reach behind you for his hand and tug him through the crowded club. finally reaching the bathroom, you kick the door shut behind you just in time for gojo to push you up against it. "ooh, such a naughty girl." he says, condescension in his voice.

"shut it." you grumble, tugging him by the collar of his shirt so he kisses you. gojo chuckles against your lips. "mmh, i love when you give into me." he mutters, making you hold in a moan.

its desperate, sloppy even, as you both scramble to get undressed enough to fuck in this dirty bathroom. you try not to think about how many other people have done this exact thing against this door. you can't quite think of anything else as gojo's cock slides between your walls, making you completely forget the situation you were in. “there’s my good girl.” he moans, hooking your leg around his waist. “i knew you’d be wet for me.” he smirks when you shoot him a meaningless glare. “you’re such an ass.” you groan, but the tilt of your hips lets gojo’s cock hit deep within you. you struggle to stay mad. 

"but am i wrong? stop kidding yourself, princess." he chuckles as you're forced to suppress a desperate whine when you feel his cock kiss your cervix. you know all too well that gojo will keep running his mouth if you don't keep it busy, so you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him to your lips. and the way you feel his lips curve into a smile against yours could probably make you cum by itself. he's far too appealing for his own good.

"so good baby-" he breathes against your skin, making you moan, every nerve in your body shuddering. you're about to sneak a hand down to rub your clit when you hear gojo's phone start to ring in his pocket. with a groan, he reaches for the call and to your surprise, answers it. "keep playin' with yourself, sexy. quietly." he whispers before putting the phone to his ear. his cock keeps pumping into you, too shallow to make you cum even with your skilled fingers rubbing yourself and it's frustrating.

you can hear nanami's voice on the other line. gojo nods and hums along like he's not balls deep in your cunt, your arousal dripping down his length. "mhm, yeah well I'm kinda in the middle of someone - something." he clears his throat and you normally would've giggled but you're too embarrassed. "gojo don't you dare-"

click.

gojo all but tosses the phone to the ground in favor of gripping your ass, fucking your pussy in earnest now. "sorry princess, gotta hurry this up before the big boss man comes looking." he grunts, taking in the way you squeeze around him. "fuck satoru, you're so-" you gasp out, about to insult him and call him an asshole but his lips find your neck and all your thoughts melt into pleasure. his teeth sink into your flesh while his tongue soothes the irritated skin.

your senses heighten, breathing quickening as your orgasm approaches. it only takes one more hard thrust before you're seeing stars, your release pulling a high pitched whine as you clench around him. "yes, baby yes. milk my cum out." gojo gets louder, a telltale sign he's close. without thinking, you grab him by the hair and kiss him, muffling both of your moans. he ruts up into your sweet cunt one last time before you feel him pulse. he groans into your mouth, pumping every last drop deep within you before he slowly lowers your legs.

he pulls your panties back into their proper spot and lets himself look as a wet spot starts to form on the fabric from where his cum is dripping out. he lets out an almost dreamy sigh at the sight. "so you're coming home with me after this mission right?" he wiggles his eyebrows, making you roll your eyes.

but yes. you would find yourself in his bed later tonight as well.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a "Hate Club" for my sister? My sister (13) and I (16) have never been close. She is very loud and energetic whereas I am not. She always has been a bit of a jerk sometimes, but recently she has been unbearable to be around. She has been outright mean to our parents, calling them names, screaming at them, throwing things, and doing so every morning when she gets up for school, and every evening when she has to go to sleep. Because of her "screaming schedule", my already bad sleep schedule has been ruined, and I need multiple naps to make it through my day properly because she wakes us up so early. I talked about this to some of my friends who know her, and we decided to make a group chat called "(Sister's name) Hate Club" where we could vent about how she has affected us personally. Sometimes our vents would devolve into mean comments or theorizing about why she's like this, but we never said any of this to her in person, or to anyone outside of our group of 8. However, one night when my mom (63) and I were coming home from a play we had gone to see, she saw a notification for (Sister's name) Hate Club. I had my phone connected to the car's display to play music, so she saw the notification, clear as day. I lied to her at the time, and told her that it was a group chat for stuff in our scout troop, as I didn't feel like explaining what it was on the way home. I thought that she would be mad at me. After I told her, she didn't talk much for the rest of the night. The next day, she confronted me as I was leaving for a doctor's appointment. She said "I don't know if you can tell, but I'm pretty angry at you right now." When I asked her why, she told me the group chat. She started saying how I was a bully, and how I was acting just like my sister does when she's mad. She wouldn't let me get a word in, so I rolled my eyes and left in the middle of her sentence (which I understand was not a good move, but I was already running late and I was angry now too). When I was done at the doctor's appointment, I decided to text her that it was actually a vent group about my sister to try and explain why the group wasn't actually a hate group. When I got home and into my room, she confronted me and we had a big argument. She kept on saying how I was bullying my sister, and apparently she talked to 2 of my friend's moms, saying "If your child made a hate group about someone, would you be mad?". They both responded with some form of "I'd be livid". One of those people got in trouble with their mom and had to write an apology letter to mine once their mom found out what my mom was talking about. In the argument, I told her that "I need a space to vent" and she said "The venting is not the problem, the name is". When I told her "It's just a joke name, because I obviously don't legitimately hate her", she said I was still bullying her. After that I got very defensive and started swearing (not directly at her, but for word emphasis), and she started saying I was disrespecting her now too. At that point I said I would change the name, because I know she's a hard-head and would rather die than admit that she's wrong in any given situation. I've changed the group chat name twice, and now were acting like nothing ever happened. I've talked to my friends that were in the group, and they've said that I'm NTA, but I'm still not sure if they are right or just biased because I'm their friend and they were hearing everything from my perspective. So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[wolfmoonmusic]

hiii<3 can u write angst abt tasm!peter parker x sick!reader where he’s basically so obsessed with gwen and tries to hang out with reader as often as he can but when he loses gwen in the fight he runs to your house for comfort but your mum opens the door to let him know that you passed away a week ago or something. i rlly need something to cry to🫶🏽

A Little Too Late

A/N: OKAY SO IM HELLA LATE TO THIS. And I made a few changes, but I hope you like it!

Pairing: TASM!Spiderman x bsf!reader, TASM!Spiderman x Gwen Stacy

w/c: 978 (it's a short one)

Warnings: ANGST, tw!death

Masterlist

Peter couldn’t feel his legs.

He’d had the worst week of his life and right now he just needed you to hug him.

He ran past your neighbor’s house, racing up the stairs to yours, not noticing the look that she was giving him.

He rang the doorbell, waiting to see your smile, and feel your arms around him. To finally have someone by his side who knew everything.

But you didn’t open the door.

“Peter?” It was your brother. And unlike his usual grinning, goofy self, he was red eyed and seemingly angry. His girlfriend walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You’d hated almost everyone that James had dated, except Evie. But it’d been so long since he’d spoken to you, he wasn’t sure if that was still the case. “Where’s Y/N? I need to see her,” Peter huffed, peering inside the house over James’s shoulder.

“Oh,” James scoffed, “What? Your girl’s dead so now you worry about my baby sister?” 

“James,” Evie warned.

Peter felt his heart drop at the mention of Gwen, before it was replaced by rage. “How dare you!” he yelled, moving to step towards James, but was instead pushed back by the older boy.

“If you really wanna see her, go to the same place you see your girl nowadays,” and with that Peter was staring at the shut door.

To say Peter was confused was an understatement. Your brother had never been that rude to him. 

But what confused him more was that last sentence. He didn’t see Gwen anywhere nowadays. How could he? She was dead.

He turned around slowly, walking away as what James had just said swirled around his mind. It didn’t make sense. Were you at the graveyard to see Gwen too? But you weren’t that close to her. And anyways, the rest of what your brother had said didn’t add up.

Lost in his thoughts, he crossed the places that had defined both of your childhoods. The park where you’d met in 6th grade, Mrs. Parkinson’s house that you’d both toilet-papered in 8th grade, and last but not least, the local library.

You and Peter had spent so many days there after school puring over all sorts of books.

God, he missed those days.

He missed you.

He knew he hadn’t been the best, best friend lately but with everything going with Gwen, and the additional casualties of everything that was happening, he’d just been too busy.

It felt like you’d been absent from his life for ages. 

In fact it was almost like you were gone. Wiped off of the face of the earth.

And then it hit him.

And he ran.

It couldn’t be.

There multiple casualties after the whole thing with Electro, but not for a second had he thought-

He stood outside the graveyard, chest heaving, and anxiety building up inside of him.

He ran around, checking each and every gravestone in a frenzy, repeating the same word over and over again in a desperate attempt to pray for his intuition to be wrong.

Please.

And then he saw it.

In loving memory of Y/N Y/L/N.

Marked with the same day as Gwen’s stone.

“No no no no no, please.”

Peter’s legs gave out from beneath him and he crashed down, kneeling in front of your gravestone.

A sudden gust of wind made him aware of the cold tears on his face, streaming down faster than the pace at which he’d ran here.

He ran a shaky hand over your name engraved in stone, as if somehow that would make it easier to process.

It couldn’t be.

He’d seen you just before the fight. That was just a few days ago. You couldn’t have died. Not after he explicitly told you to go home. That couldn’t have been the last time he saw you for good.

He felt like his heart was actually breaking. He clutched your gravestone harder, tears soaking the rock. He prayed that this was a prank. That you would jump out from behind it. But the longer he stayed there, the more it sank. You were gone and you weren’t coming back.He’d lost you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Among the chaos of everything around him Peter heard your voice from an alleyway, and immediately ran to you, worried that you were here. “Pete!” you yelled, flinging your hands around him. “Someone might hear you,” he yelled, wrapping his arms around you nonetheless. “I don’t think anyone is paying attention right now,” you laughed, pulling away. 

He could see the worry in your eyes, as usual, in spite of the smile on your face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, changing the topic to the most important one right then. “I wanted to tell you to be careful. Do you need help with something?” you asked. 

He admired your bravery, and how you always wanted to help, despite not having any powers. 

“I’m good. You need to get home,” he ushered, glancing behind him as we watched the chaos increase. 

“Okay.” You replied, nodding. You never put up a fight when Peter told you to go home though. You trusted that he knew these things better, and could tell if a situation was bad.

“Hey,” you whispered, pulling him down so your foreheads touched, “you still owe me a pizza, so get back to me okay?” Peter always felt safe when he was like this with you. No matter what happened, as long as he was with you, he would be okay.

He laughed softly, “ ‘Course I will. Don’t worry too much,” he replied. You nodded once more before pulling away.

“Now go save the day Spidey,” you grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter found himself leaning his forehead against your gravestone now, hoping that he’d feel that familiar safety again. Even if just for a moment.

[onepiecepetalfanfics089]

Enchanted~..

Chapter 3

Yandere! Strawhats + more x witch Fem! Reader ✨

_______________________________

“Ohh? So you’re hiding something now are you? I guess you don’t want people to see, so just let me see!”

Raising an eyebrow, a smirk now sprawled across your face, the feeling of eyes followed your every movement.

Multiple of them.

But at that moment, you weren’t focused on that. At that moment you were determined. Quickly, you uttered the words of your spell and surprise, surprise. A light forest green beanstalk spring beneath your feet to just meet his hight.

His observation haki wasn’t expecting that now wasn’t it?

For some reason, he didn’t stop you. Shocked expressions were plastered on everyone’s face from just your first step of what you were going to do. Staring into his red pink eyes meeting with yours, his constant muttering and talking (which you tuned out) was the only thing you could really hear now as you then grabbed his scarf abruptly and pulled it down with all your might!

GASP

….

silence…

You stared up at the sight before and then..your eyes softened.

“..seriously..? That’s It?..you had me thinking it was a huge scar or something!”

You laughed, now giving a closed eyes smile. His face was full of utter shock in surprise.

..what?..you weren’t scared..? You thought it was..not ‘that bad..?’

A soft smile rested upon your lips, letting out a soft chuckle, you sighed.

“There’s nothing wrong with you..that kind of beauty never really scared me anyways..”

…

Beauty..?

Slowly..his eyes watered..

Tears.

That was a natural response in the body but something else was going on..something was wrong.

__________________________________________

The sea was sparkling, the air was fresh, everyone was laughing and chattering, everything just seemed utterly perfect.

It had been about a week or two since you joined the infamous ‘strawhat crew.’ You were absolutely welcomed with open arms. Delicious food was served to you at all times, though sanji had to put tissues in his nose every time he got close to serve you, you honestly didn’t know why though?

Yeah, It had been exactly two weeks since you left that island you’ve been stuck on for years. The one you constantly dreamed on, dreamed of leaving, dreamed of living finally.

But something just..didn’t feel quite right.

You didn’t know how to describe it or how to even begin to describe this feeling, yes you were having the time of your life, making memories with these people you’d never thought you’d make, but something just seemed..

Off.

When you tried to tell Nami and Robin about, they simply just brushed it off, saying you were just home sick.

You could remember sitting in front of the mirror, feeling their hands tangle and brush through your hair while you stared longingly at your reflection.

Brush

Brush

Brush

Your curls easily ran through brush, and by now it was surely untangled. Yet, they still kept brushing..

The silence in the room was loud, almost deafening. So quiet..yet so peaceful you could call it, taking a deep breath and glancing at the window where you could see the water move, you decided to start a conversation, you needed information since you were now a pirate right?..

“So Nami, what island our we heading to next?..im very curious..I’ve never been anywhere new before..”

You softly spoke, almost a little embarrassed by the truth but you weren’t afraid to admit it. Just that sentence alone had you thinking.

By thinking, you remembered.

The nostalgia..oh the nostalgia..

Would you ever see a place like your original home again? You could almost feel the soft grass on your feet when you would run out and play in the sun. Feel the petals of the soft, beautiful flowers and plants you used for your spells. Hear the birds sing as you would lay in the garden, reading books upon books to cure you curiosity.

“-N..Y/N..!”

You jumped a bit, finally snapping out of your trance and not even noticing the fact that you just spaced out..

“O-Oh? Yeah sorry! Could you repeat that?”

You said, hearing a soft chuckle escape Robins lips as you saw in the reflection of the mirror that Nami had her eyebrow raised. A smooth, tan arm then sprouted from the back of the chair you were sitting in. Slowly, Robin turned your head with her pointer finger to face her, making your eyes look into her sky blue ones. She was truly beautiful..

“We’re heading to Jaya island..we need information on the other place we need to go, Skypia.”

Your ears perked up, did you hear that right?..Skypia?

Ever since you were young, you dreamed about hosting there. So many books you read about this strange world you lived in..ones you’ll never forget..

Although you had no idea what the place looked like, you kind of knew exactly what to expect. The culture and place itself was fascinating.

“Skypia? Really? I’ve only heard about that place in books! And we’ll get to go to another island before that?”

So far, being a pirate was great! You knew they explored the seas and what not, but the fact you could go so many places just perfect for you..for your need to explore..

For your need to be curious..

But, something told you that..your curiosity wouldn’t be the best thing..in fact..it told you it could possibly be your downfall..

There was only one way to find that out right?

A slow sigh escaped your lips. Just what was bugging you? Everything here was great! Yes, the crew could be a bit..overbearing at times..

They wouldn’t leave you alone for a second but hey, maybe they’re just excited for a new crew mate right?..

And you were happy to spend time with all of them! You kind of couldn’t really keep a schedule because there was so many of them..but no matter what you did on the ship it involved them.

For example, reading with Robin was always peaceful..but eventually it would get too quiet..so you would go ask to be with Zoro. You watched him work out sometimes, even joining in if you were THAT bored..but napping with him was always a pleasure..

Playing with luffy, watching Nami do her work with naps, talk with Chopper while he was in his office and so on so forth..but you just now noticed, they never really gave you time to yourself..

Hmm..

You decided to simply tell the one you were hanging out with you were busy, what’s the worse that could happen right?

…

..

It was now lunch time, everyone was eating peacefully now, Sanji flirting with you, Nami and Robin..usual..Zoro taking close glances at you every five minutes..the usual?..Usopp feeling the need to get your attention every second..the usual..

The only remotely wholesome behavior was Chopper’s really, getting every chance he could get to sit on your lap or get some of your sweet, sweet attention..cutely though of course.

This was definitely normal behavior..for them. In all the books you read however, this wasn’t exactly right though..but like Robin said, “books aren’t always realistic..”

Cutting a small piece of your food, you bit it off from your fork casually, chewing before speaking.

“So, once we get to Jaya island..where exactly are we going to get the information?..”

You asked, looking around at the table for your answer. Luffy, with his cheery grin answered in an excited tone, tearing a piece of meat off the bone.

“Me, Zoro and Nami are gonna try to go around and see what information we can find!”

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but glance up at him from under your eyelashes. This boy..

This pure boy with the big grin, so excited about everything, it’s like he could do no wrong or be mad about anything!

Right?…

“Ah yeah! Nami told me about that earlier..so since it’s the first island I’ve been on besides home….”

When you mentioned the word ‘home’ you saw the crew stiffen up..even Sanjis eyes widened before he continued to pour some tea into Nami’s cup..

Strange.

“I’m gonna go solo and explore! I’m sure it’ll be exciting don’t cha’ guys think?”

You said with a light hearted laugh, sipping your cup of tea. They all went silent for a while, staring at you intently or something else. Usopp and Sanji especially looked rather..zoned out.

Blinking and setting your cup down back on the table, you looked around curiously. Why in earth were they so..quiet?..this was very odd.

Nami seemed the first one to snap out of it.

“Uhm well…although we know that’ll be fun for you..”

“It’s a stupid idea. You might get hurt.”

Zoro butted in, his tone blunt as he now locked his gaze on you. Raising an eyebrow you waited for someone else to back you up on this yet..

No one did.

Sighing softly, you had gotten rather..tired of their protectiveness in the past few months..but you would never say that out loud however. Something deep down told you not to.

“Well, that is very sweet that you guys..care so much..I’ll be fine! You know I can fight, it’s not like town is known for how dangerous it is or anything..”

Squinting his eyes, Zoro looked as if he was about to say more, but Robin soon chimed In with her smooth voice.

“She’s right you know? Plus, we could get very useful information if there were more of us in different places..”

A smile was brought to your lips, thanks Robin!

It soon faltered a bit once you saw her give everyone a look. A look you couldn’t really..describe. Like a message, a code someone could decipher.

Luffy let put a low grumble, trying to stare that ‘it want safe and, I’ll miss her!’ But of course that didn’t work.

Finally, you would get SOME peace right?

.

.

.

.

The sound of your shoes clicking on the pavement as you walked was oddly soothing. Even though you knew this place wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the world..you were fascinated.

The sounds, the smells the people. Everything you could get your eyes on interested you. Of course you had to take up from Nami and go on a shopping spree, new clothes were just too hard to resist! You knew they would freak once they saw them!

Since the day was sunny, your curly hair was out up into a ponytail to match the heat, humming calmly along with the tube you had in your head.

A yawn slowly escaped you as you felt your eyes flutter softly.

“Hmm..who knew shopping and exploring all day could get me this tired out....I wonder..”

You said, feeling your eyes wonder across the street to grassy clearing. The crew wouldn’t mind if you stayed for just a little longer right?..a girl did need a nap!

Walking into the meadow of flowers, you smiled fondly, picking one up and twirling it in between your fingers. It was daisy, an English daisy. The most common but still beautiful. You tried to find beauty in almost everything..everything or anyone.

Gently setting the bags and your flower down, you plucked a handful of the flowers and uttered the words of your spell..

Shroop~!

A giant, yet lovely flower surrounded you. Enclosing on you and your bags with a little pollen bed for you to rest on. Slowly stretching you felt yourself slowly smile..finally feeling the most peace you could feel at last..

………………………………………………………………………….

A yawn slowly escaped you..what time was it?..waving your hand in an almost dismissive manner around, the flower slowly sprouted, its petals revealing the outside world at last.

Blinking a few times to get adjusted, you finally started to realize..

It was..

EVENING?!

Sundown and you’d still hadn’t come back to the ship!

Oh good lord what were they going to say now??

Even though you’d hadn’t been on the ship that long you just knew deep down..

You were screwed.

Quickly grabbing all of your stuff, you ran out of the meadow to the ship. While you were running however, you passed a man.

Not just any man though..

His aura..his vibe, felt different..

You looked at him, eyes slightly squinted once you were able to spot him clearly.Your eyes locked.

He was tan, big lips and beard with a big bottle of sake you assumed. A red ball necklace around his neck. He smiled. Wide too, revealing his missing and crooked teeth as you caught a glance of the golden ring on his finger.

You shivered..

Something about him didn’t seem quite right..like..

You were going to see him again soon..

Or were you just talking crazy?..

..

.

Lifting up the huge bottle, he took a long sip, the liquid slowly dripping down his chin and down to his neck as he wiped it off.

Still keeping that sane grin, a loud laugh escaped him. Remembering your face clearly as watched the people on the street pass by.

“Well,nice to meet ya too missy! I feel like I’ll be seein’ ya soon too..”

..

…

Did you get to the ship sooner than you expected? Yes. But did you still get very much scolded? Of course.

And they seemed very serious..almost possessive..

Just brush it off Y/N..

Brush it off..

These people were good.

Just something about the way Zoro immediately pulled you into his arms, forcing your head to meet his chest so you could feel his racing heartbeat while the others continued to chatter and scold endlessly at you for taking too long no matter how hard you tried to explain..

Yeah, they definitely weren’t leaving you by yourself..

Anytime soon.

Finally, once you got to the woman’s quarters, you couldn’t stop thinking about the eventful day you had..

Surprisingly, Nami and Robin met you do your night routine by yourself..

If you didn’t know any better, you’d suspect that the whole crew were talking about something while you were gone..

Stop it Y/N! This is crazy talk!

You thought yourself, letting out a soft groan, staring at the ceiling.

But it doesn’t hurt to check..right?..

There was a spell you knew..a powerful one that showed your future or fate..yet, it did great damage to your energy sometimes..but you had to know..you had to know if..this behavior was normal.

Sitting down in a circle full of cards you summoned, turned face down. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath..

“Secrets, secrets show yourself..show my fate,show my true self..for better or for worse I’ll know my fate..I’ll not have to alternate!”

Smoke soon filled the room, all of the cards soon floated and submerged into your head out hand. Taking a deep breath, everything went back to normal. Slowly fluttering your eyes open, you felt your shaky hands slowly start to turn the card over..

Would this finally be an answer?..

“Y/N! Come down to hang with us! We’re all gonna play a drinking game!!”

Luffy called out, causing you to blink.

Why at this time!?..

Glancing over at the card in your hand..you sighed softly, closing your eyes for a split second before gently setting it down on the floor.

Maybe it was best to not read it until later..maybe it was best to try to have some fun right now..the night was young wasn’t it?..

Getting up from the floor, you yelled down a ‘coming!’ Before hurrying down to the lower deck.

Little did you know that underneath that card..was a picture of a rose..a glittering red rose being reached out by many,many hands. Possessive hands, needy hands.

Though, that couldn’t mean anything serious..

Right?..

End of chapter 3~..

———————————————————————

A/N:HIIII MY LOVES~! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And yes, I did publish it late and yes it was TECHNICALLY on a Sunday 😭 but this chapter was basically getting to know Y/N, I promise other characters like all the strawhats, and more (wink, wink) will be shown more as much as their characters! I hope this is king enough honestly 😭 but I really enjoyed writing this and I must say, I’m so glad to be back! For now I will be working on my requests to try to get them back open again and since I have A LOT in waiting, then I will be getting back to this, which will be shortly so dont worry! 🌸💕

And don’t think I forgot to tag you @theg0ddesspersephone 🍀!

Until next time my pretty petals!!~

[imaprettygirl]

10,000 hours

"I'd spend 10, 000 hours and 10, 000 more. Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours"

(Inspired by Dan + Shay and Justin Bieber's song (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)) Some lyrics are used here!

(Oh and credits to the original artist for the fanarts I used!)

For Alhaitham and Zhongli, consider it as the sequel to the first fics.

ALHAITHAM (part 1)

ZHONGLI (part 1)

CHARACTERS USED HERE: Alhaitham, Zhongli and Neuvillette

ALHAITHAM

"Do you miss the road that you grew up on? Did you get your middle name from your grandma?"

"Oh, why is that?" Alhaitham mumbled as the corners of his lips urged to curl up into a smile if not for him holding it back. His eyes skimmed the pages of the book he was holding although shooting occasional glances at you blabbering about how the Akademiya's strict yet ridiculous rules and customs. Contrary to his insouciant countenance, his ears were keen on picking up every word you said to engrave them into his memory; especially information about yourself. He believed that gathering up personal details of you would help him succeed in wooing you.

"They made us wear those itchy hats which are made of rough linen! It's making my scalp itch!!" You poured out all your complaints, your legs dangling upon sitting on Alhaitham's desk. "But don't get me wrong! Sumeru is really nice; a whole new experience! But I do miss my hometown and my family..."

Alhaitham heard your soft sigh at your last sentence which made his ears perk up with curiosity. A trace of a faint smile lingered on the scribe's face as he closed his book with a soft thud sound. "Who do you miss more? Your hometown or family?"

"Hm... maybe my family? They mean the world to me... Especially my grandma!" Your face lit up when you mentioned your grandmother. The scribe's lips parted to say something but instead, he just chuckled.

"Your grandmother? May I inquire why?"

You weren't the type to deduce a situation without seeing the big picture but you could have swear you heard his voice crack at the word 'grandmother'... Was he washed over by the feeling of nostalgia? You didn't know his past exactly but your guess was that he was brought up by his grandma judging from the way he weighs that specific word. Curious, you shifted your body to his direction to observe his body language so that you could confirm your suspicions. Finally after a long pause, you replied with a soft smile, "She bakes me excellent chocolate cookies. And oh, I'm not sure you know that but my family runs a small yet successful bakery!"

You paused for a while, silently weighing the words you were going to say to make sure if it was appropriate to let it out loud in front of him.

"My mother said that I take after my grandma from head to toe. That's why my middle name was named after her." You finally mustered the courage and let out a giggle to ease any possible tension between you two in case he was offended by your words.

Antithetical to what you have believed, you saw a soft smile on that handsome face of his instead of a scowl. Who knew he could be a heart-throb when smiling? Maybe you should persuade him to do more...

"Ah... I see. No wonder your middle name sounds so obsolete yet beautiful- in a good way of course"

Although the things you just said couldn't benefit him in buying gifts to your liking, he was glad that the walls around your heart were starting to crack little by little.

"But guess what?" You got off his desk and reached for the exit "I know her secret chocolate cookies recipe..."

"So get ready to taste some tomorrow!" You left the room with a wink which seemed platonic to you.

But not for him.

ZHONGLI

"When you think about your forever now, do you think of me?"

"Do tell me dear, what does the word 'forever' and 'eternity' speak to you?" The Geo lord strolled along by your side.

"Erm... the Electro archon? Lightning? Inazuma?" You made multiple guesses but each one earning his shook of disapproval. Your eyebrows knitted into a frown as you scrambled for the correct answer.

"You will get no where if you continue making such guesses far from truth. I must admit that she would be flattered by your words if she happened to be near us." Zhongli patted your shoulder as he looked down at the city of Liyue from the mountains above. The orange evening sky colored the red buildings of the city crimson and laughter and chatters filled the streets. Colorful flowers of pride blossomed in his heart at that sight; the city he built from scratch had now became a civilized one. But these feelings didn't even had a room in his heart when compared to the pride and love he felt when around you.

"Think again, dear." He raised his eyebrow in amusement upon seeing that puzzled look on your face. "Let me give you a hint then... how do you see yourself in five to ten years?" Zhongli tilted his head with his eyes closed towards the sky casting an orange glow on his face. Under such golden light, his features were more refined. When he opened his eyes, you noticed that they seem to lighten in hue which made it more alluring.

"Well, I'm still young so I'll probably stick by your side and my instrument too." You smiled at the mention of your musical instrument; you could as well as say that it was your first love.

Zhongli's breath hitched in his throat as his face went slack- his lips parted slightly with widened eyes. Being self-conscious again, he hid his happiness behind that calm, professional mask of his. "So, you're saying that you want to be by my side....forever?"

"Suppose so" You shrugged as you ran down the hill, feeling the cold wind fanning your face as it also made your ears pop. At the bottom of the hill, you found yourself followed by Zhongli and you both walked your way into Liyue's harbor. Suddenly, you heard an old woman's weak cries near the entrance of the city. Worried, you glanced at her direction and found a basket of glaze lilies next to her and it seemed that she was trying to sell them before the end of the day. You felt pity for her so you approached her with slow delicate steps.

"Erm, excuse me. I would like to purchase some glaze lilies. May I have four of them?" Your words had a gentle lilt to it.

"Unfortunately for you dear... there are only two left!" The elderly lady replied with an anxious expression. You bit your lower lip in thought but then you nodded.

"I'll have two the-

"Wait" You felt a presence approaching you from behind; Zhongli. "You said you wanted four. Shall we come back tomorrow?"

That's when you knew that you were stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea: You didn't want to hurt the elderly woman's feelings or Zhongli's. You had to find a way to please them both.

"W-Well... I'll buy only two today" you glanced at Zhongli "I hope you don't mind but I want you to buy two for me everyday...until it's big enough to be a bouquet."

NEUVILETTE

"Do you love the rain, does it make you dance when you're drunk with your friends at a party?"

"I can see that you enjoy the feeling of rain..." A man's voice interrupted the daze you were in. You let out a yelp in response and turned your head around swiftly to see who it was: Monsieur Neuvillette.

"Ahaha... Monsieur..." You chuckled nervously as you shook off the water droplets on your extended hand to hide it in your coat's pocket. You lifted your blue umbrella a little bit higher so that his face could be seen in detail. "Erm... maybe." You lowered your gaze in guilt. Being a pluviophile is tough especially when rain only pours when the Chief Justice of Fontaine is feeling under the weather. During your teenage years, you used to run in the rain alone or with friends after a party. But right now? That hobby of yours had became a guilty pleasure ever since you became Monsieur Neuvillette and Lady Furina's personal stylist. It's not like you must hide that from him but when you put yourself in his shoes, the whole situation changes: how would you feel if you see someone acting all buoyantly in front of you when they clearly know that you're distressed? Offended right?

"Ah... so my guess is correct then" He let out a soft chuckle "Why is that?"

"Oh, well... ever since I was a little girl, I would go on strolls with my mother and when it rained, I would jump into shallow puddles and play with it." A wave of nostalgia intertwined with guilt cascaded over your whole being; Afterall, the rain served as a reminiscent of your childhood. "During my teenage years, I would dance under the drizzle with my friends..."

"Really? Oh. So you used to frolic in the rain?" Your head snapped in his direction faster than the speed of light at his question because you thought he was offended. His calm yet sharp reply could be mistaken for a sarcastic comment. Contrary to what you had thought, he was, in fact, insouciant. You were expecting him to be purple with rage and fire you from your position at that instant. But no, he was just staring at you...with a soft smile.

"I-I was drunk... I didn't mean it!" You dropped your umbrella on one shoulder so that he couldn't see your face.

"Oh no, don't do that... may I?" His gloved hand reached to lift the object veiling your face. "Don't hide that pretty face of yours"

His eloquence left you flustered- you could hear the flutter of a thousand butterflies resonating within the depths of your stomach and the echo of the pounding of your heart creating ripples of sensation throughout your body. "A-Aren't you mad at me?" You exclaimed, your voice trembling. "I mean... my happiness stems from your misery."

"Hmm... for the time being let your imagination run wild. And do tell me, what kind of dances do you dance when there is a shower?"

"Like twirling...swing dance and stuff like that"

"How about ballroom dance?"

"I'm normal at it? But I might step on your shoe or even trip over it if the ground is slippery because of the downpour"

Neuvillette held himself back from wheezing when you mentioned your flaw when it came to dancing. "You like to dance in the rain hm?"

"So, If I shed more tears, will you grant me the opportunity to sway in your embrace, my chérie?"

(Guys, I'm so sorry for Neuvillette's part- It sounds so cheesy because I was so high on caffeine while writing his part 😘😘🤗🤓 trust me it's from all those cups of coffee I consumed during the day since I'll pulling an all-nighter for tests)

Anyways thanks for reading ❤️ Credits to @cafekitsune for the divider!

[sourpatchys]

My personal Shigaraki Tomura Headcannons that I will defend with my life

—

He’s actually pretty shy. He keeps to himself, he’s not going to tell you about his interests unless he trusts you with his life, he won’t even so much as share his favorite foods with you if he doesn’t know you well enough. Not because he’s afraid you’ll make fun of him for it— he just genuinely finds opening up to be embarrassing and prefers not too if he can help it.

He never lost his love for video games and he still thinks about strategies with a lot of the terms in mind. Being the leader of the league of villains and losing the original hide out made him pull the break on his hobby’s.

He likes to draw. He figured out at an early age that art doesn’t take all five fingers. It started as something silly he did when he didn’t feel like paying attention to kurogiri, and steadily over the years it’s become something he relies on to help with stress

He wears all black because he’s too lazy to figure out what looks good. He does care about his appearance, but not badly enough to go through multiple outfits.

He’s actually really self conscious of the scars on his face. He thinks they make him look weak, unkept and disgusting. If he could change anything about himself he’d get rid of them in an instant.

Due to his self conscious nature regarding his looks— he’s super on top of everything else. As a kid he was so worried about looking the way he does and smelling, that he actually had to be temporarily banned from using cologne and body spray because of how overwhelming it got for everyone around him.

He has insanely good handwriting. It’s actually really alarming to see for the first time.

His internal dictionary is also pretty well established. Shigaraki is not afraid to use big words, and he tends to use extremely well put together sentences, both verbally and otherwise.

AFO made sure shigaraki had a proper education, even going as far as to hire private tutors, which is why his vocabulary is so top of the line.

(Sometimes while speaking the league will stop him midway through and ask him to use ‘normal people’ words)

He does have manners— some might even say he has an annoying amount of manners. And he will get pissed off if people don’t follow his footsteps, especially if the situation calls for it.

That being said he has never— and will never— sit in a chair properly. His legs are all over the fucking place and that’s how he likes it.

Growing up he wore mittens to bed to stop from absolutely disintegrating his mattress because he’s a stomach sleeper.

He sleeps with his mouth open, he drools AND he snores.

Contrary to what you may think, he’s not going to be an angry spiteful boyfriend.

He takes everything to heart because he hates everything, that’s who he is and that’s what he does! But he doesn’t hate you. So he will learn to take things with a grain of salt when it comes to you.

He’s not going to be a confrontational type of guy with you, he knows it wouldn’t solve anything if he came in with guns blazing. He doesn’t want you to ever see him that angry as long as he can help it.

He’s not going to apologize if things go wrong on his end though— at least not vocally. Honestly he doesn’t even know how to apologize, so you’ll just get a gift or some tighter cuddles that night compared to usual.

He’s afraid of spiders. He thanks the universe every single day that there isn’t some weird ass mutated spider hero that he has to deal with.

His “rebellion phase” was just him trying to overcome his murderous thoughts. (It didn’t work)

This man loves loitering. It’s the stupidest crime there is and he genuinely cannot get enough of it.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to understand that not everyone had endless amounts of money. Growing up he could order or buy whatever he wanted, so he just assumed that’s how the world worked for everyone until his early teens

If he were to start developing feelings for you, he wouldn’t know what the hell was going on. “Love” and “attraction” are not emotions he’s familiar with.

He will absolutely test out his theory by building a life with you in the sims.

Shockingly enough he’s not opposed to having kids. It’s just not something he’d ever think about unless you were to bring it up.

He has a My Chemical Romance hoodie tucked into the very back of his closet.

He collects vinyl records

He doesn’t like animals but if he had to choose between a dog or a cat he’d choose a cat.

Yes— he does own a pair of pink fuzzy bunny slippers, your suspicions are correct. (They’re so comfortable but he’d never been caught dead wearing them)

As a kid he collected bottle caps, he still has one he carry’s around with him as a good luck charm

He constantly forgets to tell you where he’s going and how long he’ll be gone— and he’s never on his phone so don’t expect him to answer your texts or calls if you’re worried.

A Domesticated shigaraki is just like having an old man as a pet. He complains— is a little too good at playing chess— is always wearing some kind of pajamas and smells like aftershave

Has the largest sweet tooth you’ve ever encountered. This guy could eat an entire cake in a single sitting and not get nauseous.

He either won’t eat at all and then gets pissed because he’s hungry or he’ll eat too much and get pissed that he’s full

He keeps a small sketch book on him at all times and 80% of the pages are of you

He’ll eat anything once, including shit he finds on the floor

One of his front teeth is fake, the adult tooth literally just never grew in

He hates hero’s but sometimes in order to get ideas he reads old marvel comics

He’s a green goblin stan

He has a “shoot first ask questions later” mentality that no one can take away from him. He simply does not gaf what your reasons are

He’ll kill anyone regardless, but he goes a lot harder on people with outdated opinions

[homunculus-argument]

A neat trick for avoiding arguments: Get better at guessing what people mean through multiple hypothesis elimination!

If you find yourself in arguments a lot, particularly the types where someone says something, you tell them that they're completely wrong, and it turns out that they were talking about something completely different than what you thought that they were saying, you unfortunately cannot force everyone else on the planet to speak more clearly. But what you can do is get better at guessing what they're triyng to say!

Every time someone says something that sounds completely wrong, try this: Come up with three different interpretations of what they might be trying to say (and only one of the three is your first guess), and then look back to the earlier conversation for clues of which interpretation might be the the most correct one. Let's try an example sentence:

"Bears aren't the main threat you should be worrying about when hiking in Poland. You are statistically more likely to get killed by a dog attack than by a bear."

Now, let's come up with three different interpretations:

This person is saying that bears are more safe to keep as pets than dogs. You are always safe in the presence of a wild bear.

This person is claiming that there are turbo dangerous killer dogs roaming in the woods in Poland and they can and will kill you.

The odds of getting killed by a random dog are low, but never zero. This person is pointing out that the odds of getting killed by a random bear are even lower than that.

And once you have three different interpretations available, look at what the rest of the conversation has been about this far. Were they talking about what animals are the safest to keep as pets? No, they were talking about potential dangers in the wilderness. So that eliminates interpretation #1. So that leaves us with options two and three. And while I, personally, would opt to assume that the speaker is not a complete moron, and automatically assume that the most likely interpretation is the one that isn't idiotic.

But the neat thing is, if you aren't sure, you can always ask them! If you can, try to word it politely. Like this: "Do you mean that there are killer dogs in the woods in Poland, or did you choose dog attacks as a random statistical comparison, in order to highlight how unlikely bear attacks truly are?" The answer might surprise you! And if they did, in fact, mean the idiotic thing you thought they said, you're now free to shred them to bits with no further hesitation! Just remember:

Always ask before you attack.

[takes1]

Hi !!! Hope u had a great day:)

I’d like to request some fluff with maybe Kuroo or Akaashi?

Take care of urself, love u (nd ur works !!)💗

hi!! thank you so much and ty for the request! take care and much love babes!! i kinda ended up using this more fluffy req as a backdrop for a kenma/kuroo/reader series idea i had ;)

warnings. sfw, fluffy / nsfw to follow in future parts

info. fem!reader / kenma-esque!reader / flirty!kuroo / kuroo with a crush / TA!reader / collegeau / quiet-shy!reader / future kenmaxreaderxkuroo / 900 words. reply to be added to taglist

haikyuu collection here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist.

If it wasn't for how slow this class dragged, Kuroo never would have raised a hand for the TA to come over and look over his syntax file.

But he had no intention of staying later, nor getting a shit grade because his lines were wrong, so he resorted to somewhat-desperate measures. Not like the guys at his table were any help, anyway. Two of them never got off their phones, and one was packing up after he breezed through the assignment.

Glazed eyes rolled, semi-jealous, mostly disinterested, over the seat becoming vacant next to him. Try-hard.

It filled with a much better view. How hadn't he noticed the TA was a chick before?

"What's the issue?" You asked, unbelievably quiet and even.

A couple clicks on his keyboard, which he noticed was not perfectly clean at this moment, and a different file replaced the first.

The light reflected back in your eyes- big, and wide, yet completely expressionless. It was familiar, in a way, and he felt almost drawn into you to look for how, or why. He leaned closer just by an inch.

"Nothin'," He mumbled, eyes bouncing back and forth from your face to his laptop, "Just wanted a check."

You didn't look at him. In fact, you weren't going to. He stared at the side of your face and found that you harbored none of the same curiosity for him.

Did he know you from somewhere else?

Unlikely. You looked like you didn't get out much.

"You should take a look at your third line, it's off," You sighed, glancing around the room to locate two more hands up.

Just as you started to stand up and leave him to figure out what was wrong, his chatter demanded that you stay a moment longer.

"Couldn't you just- I don't know, tell me what's wrong with it?" He smirked.

You turned towards him, unamused, and he realized exactly who you reminded him of.

A very handsome, entertained grin filled his face while you explained that it's not your job to do his work.

In the middle of your next sentence, he shamelessly cut you off in a rush of excitement, eyes darting, curious but certainly not innocent, over every bit of you.

"That's it! Kenma-," He chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

"--What-, what?" Your brow furrowed, just about the only emotion you had expressed yet, at his off-putting and ill-timed realization.

"You're just, uh-," He tapped his pencil, tentative, on the desk, and let it go, "You're totally my buddy's type."

"Is that a joke?"

"No! No," He smiled and rubbed his face, clearly occupied with a flurry of thoughts, and somehow settled on, "You should give me your number," In the midst of it all.

You turned around without another word and left to help the other students.

He sat, dumbfounded, still grinning open-mouthed as his pencil rolled off of his desk and hit the floor.

Part of him just couldn't believe he was so off of his usual game. He couldn't recall any other time he had been shut down like that; at least not by a girl.

And yet, it further proved his point since that was something Kenma had done to him multiple times.

He stayed for the entire class just to talk to you again. He had slightly more intelligence than to try and get your help again, so he waited until the room cleared out and you were packing up to attempt smoothing things over.

You visibly straightened, book clutched harder to your chest, when he approached.

"I'm sorry," Kuroo held his hands out in a way that made him seem a bit more harmless, but you didn't let up, "Honest, I didn't mean to freak you out back there."

The guy was tall -towering, even- and his black t-shirt left little to the imagination. You didn't often associate with guys like him, if at all. It threw you off that he kept trying to talk to you.

Your nose was scrunched just a little. Exactly like Kenma when he got upset about something. This time, he kept his cute aggression to himself with a sobering breath.

"I'm Kuroo." He held his hand out for you to shake.

Oh, God. You hated handshakes.

He bit back a smile.

"I'm... (Y/n)," Hesitant, you returned it and tried not to think too hard about how giant his hand was.

It got a lot harder the longer you looked up at him. You felt your face getting warm when you noticed how broad his shoulders were, even when stooped down to come across as more friendly.

"I get not wanting to give your number out," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, "So I'll just give you mine."

It wasn't until later that you realized there were actually two numbers written down, and you would have no clue which one was his.

"You sure you don't wanna go grab a coffee or something?"

His crooked grin was something out of a romantic novel, but all it did was make you shrink. His even bigger grin told you he already knew the answer.

An instant no- every part of you wanted to get away from this guy so you could just relax again.

"Fair enough," He wasn't subtle in the way he glanced around your face, your hair, your eyes, before tearing himself away, "Just think about it, yeah?"

taglist:

none! reply to be added for future parts

[ach-sss-no]

For @qthewhatever and anyone else who is interested, here is an overview of Gollum's speech patterns, or:

Why Sméagol talks Like That, an introductory course

Note: I am discussing the books only. The movie adaptation of the character was changed a lot and I don't want to address adaptational changes in this post. All quotes are from The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

Notex2: A lot of this post is just going to be my opinion. I don't want to assert my opinion as correct or factual, but it is going to slow the flow of this post down to a stuttering crawl if I stop to say 'imo' every other sentence. So I'd like to just say once, up front, that if I am not citing a source or a commonly agreed-on fact (such as 'hobbits have furry feets'), I'm giving my own interpretation of the books and am aware I may have things wrong, or that there may be multiple equally correct interpretations of the work. I belive there are always multiple takes that can be had on a complex work of literature, some of which can be equally correct, but not all of them are my takes. In the same vein, I understand that fictional characters are not living people, but it is easier and more efficient sometimes to talk about them as if they were. If I slip into doing that, it's just economy of language.

Now, to start off with, it's important to remember that Tolkien was a linguist who played with words for fun, and even without getting into the Conlangs Iceberg, a lot of LOTR and The Hobbit involve wordplay. The man loved words, he liked to interject poetry, he liked to stylize words in specific manners to convey extra layers of meaning (some of which is, to be honest, waaay over my head! medieval literature and epic poetry and etc. etc. I can tell when I'm reading it that it's a style shift and it's significant, but that's about it.) None of that is my take, he's an infamous Words Guy.

Therefore, if there's a specific word pattern used in his works and it's something extremely distinctive and impossible not to notice, it's there for a reason.

What I'm getting at is that sometimes a character has funky speech patterns just because a writer likes it or is trying to get characters not to blend in with each other in dialog, and in those cases, the style of dialog may not be worthy of this much analysis. But this is Tolkien and this:

"Bless us and splash us, my precioussss! I guess it's a choice feast; at least a tasty morsel it'd make us, gollum!"

This doesn't happen by accident

So that's the writer: a guy who likes words. It is also relevant to discuss the history of the character.

(As an aside: Gollum was invented and introduced in The Hobbit. Gollum-as-Sméagol-a-character-with-a-history-and-name was not introduced until LOTR, and his introduction is significant enough that the story stops for a long stretch while Gandalf (a character known to be a sayer of significant things) narrates it to us.)

Sméagol comes from a rural and semi-feral community that lives by the river. He is from

a family of high repute, for it was large and wealthier than most, and it was ruled by a grandmother of the folk, stern and wise in old lore, such as they had. The most inquisitive and curious-minded of that family was called Sméagol. He was interested in roots and beginnings; he dived into deep pools; he burrowed under trees and growing plants; he tunnelled into green mounds; and he ceased to look up at the hill-tops, or the leaves on trees, or the flowers opening in the air: his head and his eyes were downward. - The Fellowship of the Ring, 'Shadow of the Past'

Invasive species behavior.

(Sometimes I remember this passage at random because I look at the ground for bugs a lot and I'll remember to look up at leaves on trees instead. Not important. moving on)

Sméagol was raised by said grandmother. He grew up "wealthier than most" and with a guardian who was "stern and wise" and the ruler of the community. So he's rich, probably well-educated as his people go, and closely related to/living in the household of an important authority figure, and he also seems to only have one friend, and in The Hobbit there's a mention that he only likes one game (riddles). He appears to be constantly seeking intellectual stimulation, and likes stories.

Sméagol was later ousted from his community and ended up completely isolated in a cave. I think it gets overlooked how much of an impact FIVE HUNDRED YEARS of isolation would have on a person. Tolkien points it out specifically in the prologue to LOTR:

But after ages alone in the dark Gollum's heart was black, and treachery was in it

But I usually hear Gollum's descent as a person spoken of only regarding the Ring. Consider how much damage it would do if you were to suddenly go from 'cushy life surrounded by a clan' to CAVE FOREVER LMAO. He'd be having some problems even without the Ring.

What does this have to do with saying 'we hates it my precious gollum gollum'

Everything!

Gollum has three different distinct modes of speaking: 1) we hates it my precious gollum gollum 2) Sméagol is hungry (and he has never done anything wrong ever) (gollum gollum) 3) "Indeed I was told to seek for the Precious; and I have searched and searched, of course I have." (gollum)

These different modes communicate different moods and intentions. They are all the same character.

They are all the same character.

They're all the same character, Mr. Jacks(ok. I'm not here to talk about that. I promised to be very, very good and not let the movies have this post)

We hates it my precious gollum gollum

Why does Gollum say 'my precious'?

He's referring to the Ring, which is the +1 Ring of Making You Call It 'My Precious'. Look, Bilbo does it too:

'Well, if you want my ring yourself, say so!' cried Bilbo. 'But you won't get it. I won't give my precious away, I tell you.' His hand strayed to the hilt of his small sword. - FOTR

He's also threatening gandalf the grey here because it's the +1 Ring of Stupid Life Choices.

But wait! When Gollum does it, there's an extra wrinkle:

And when he said gollum he made a horrible swallowing noise in his throat. That is how he got his name, though he always called himself 'my precious.' - The Hobbit

Gandalf says the Ring 'was eating up his mind.' Gollum seems to be calling himself and the Ring by the same name.

Why does Gollum refer to himself in the plural first person?

Well, in his original form as 'random silly threat in a cave', it's possible that Tolkien was making a bit of a joke by having his silly little villain use the royal we. I think it is objectively funny to have a random weirdo in a cave use the royal we (and Gollum is the kind of person who would do such a thing). But I think the finished version of the character is using 'we' to mean 'myself and the Ring'.

This is why I spent so much time on 'oh him lonely :'( ' in the beginning. Sméagol was used to having a family clan around him (even though he sounds unpopular!) He was forcibly ousted and left with only the Ring, which as an added wrinkle, has a slight will of its own and gives a sense of having low-grade life in it. This gives Sméagol at least three very strong motivations for talking to the Ring and obsessing over it, first off, it's magic and it's eating his soul. Second off, he's incredibly, painfully lonely, which can induce someone to personify an object and try to make friends with it.

Thirdly, Sméagol is more self-aware than he seems, and he is completely capable of realizing that his own choices have driven away all of his loved ones and also he killed his friend, and he did it in exchange for the Ring. So the part of him that realizes that stuff would by natural consequence be desperate to believe the Ring is a worthy exchange for his entire family, his home, and everything he ever knew or loved.

Just cave and Ring. Me and my bestie the Ring. It's our cave! Me and my precious. Ride or die. Me and Ring. It's OUR CAVE. It's OUR pile of dead orcs.

But... Why is Gollum so... theatrical about this mode of speech?

Does it guess easy? It must have a competition with us, my preciouss! If precious asks, and it doesn't answer, we eats it, my preciousss. If it asks us, and we doesn't answer, then we does what it wants, eh? We shows it the way out, yes! - The Hobbit

This is also the style of speech that uses obvious nonstandard grammar (we doesn't vs. we don't) and the pluralses, and the hissing. (The other modes of speech do this much less often. Almost never. Way less than I noticed before. i've definitely gotten this wrong before)

So why all of that? Well, he's bored. He's bored, he's lonely, and he's being written by a quirky linguist who thinks making up words is fun. I think Gollum is being extra on purpose. I have never sat in a cave by myself with no WiFi for five HUNDRED years, but I think it would be boring.

We know Gollum still enjoys riddles because when he has a hostage, he makes Bilbo play riddles. Gollum enjoys playing with words. Look, he made up a little traveling song about wanting to splash in puddles!

So, I think this is something he does on purpose to entertain and comfort himself, and although very habitual he is able to stop doing it when he wants to. Look at him correcting 'ours' to 'mine' when he's trying to communicate something he really cares about to Frodo:

The Precious was ours, it was mine I tell you. - The Two Towers

👌Mwah!

So, I think Gollum chose, at least partly, to take on this persona as a coping mechanism.

When does Gollum speak in the royal we?

When he's alone, and whenever he forgets to stop doing it.

One final note: canonically, the way the characters in LOTR first "met" Gollum was when Bilbo told them the Riddles in the Dark story (complete with vocal impression. becasue Pippin knows how to make the noise, remember?)

They probably thought Bilbo was, at the very least, exaggerating. Then Sam, Frodo, Gandalf and Aragorn all get to find out he wasn't!

Sméagol is unproblematic. and hungry.

Why does Gollum speak in the third person?

'You know that, or you guess well enough, Sméagol,' he said. quietly and sternly. 'We are going to Mordor, of course. And you know the way there, I believe.' `Ach! sss! ' said Gollum, covering his ears with his hands, as if such frankness, and the open speaking of the names, hurt him.

names, plural

names including 'Sméagol' his own freaking name

Don't ask Sméagol. Poor, poor Sméagol, he went away long ago. They took his Precious, and he's lost now.' 'Perhaps we'll find him again, if you come with us,' said Frodo. 'No, no, never! He's lost his Precious,' said Gollum. - The Two Towers

Gollum starts referring to himself in the third person/as Sméagol after all this, and he seems to be doing it to try to ingratiate himself with Frodo, who starts their relationship by repeatedly addressing Gollum by his real name.

he was friendly, and indeed pitifully anxious to please. He would cackle with laughter and caper, if any jest was made, or even if Frodo spoke kindly to him, and weep if Frodo rebuked him. - The Two Towers

(just imagine you make a small, quiet joke of the sort Frodo usually makes and it's greeted with 'HAHA ;_;' and dancing around from gollum)

So he'll use third person when he's trying to be friendly

Nice hobbits, they sleep beautifully. Trust Sméagol now? Very, very good. - The Two Towers

Sméagol always helps, if they asks -- if they asks nicely. - The Two Towers

Or when being a little bit of a pill and trying to get away with it

'Yes, yes, and Sam stinks! ' answered Gollum. `Poor Sméagol smells it, but good Sméagol bears it. Helps nice master. - The Two Towers

Look at his social skills! Truly, this is a man who's lived alone for 500 years and has secret malicious intent.

When does Gollum speak in the third person?

When trying to be cute. (By implication, Gollum seems to have some inkling that the royal we is off-putting to people. I bet they made fun of him for it in Mordor.)

But there's also another little wrinkle to this- he seems to be dissociating a bit? I've noticed that repeatedly, Gollum will describe himself, announce his status [he's hungry], start off a personal narrative or descriptor with third-person language (which sounds a little dissociated), and then shift to "I" when his emotions get engaged.

It caught Sméagol there, long ago.' Gollum shuddered. 'But Sméagol has used his eyes since then, yes, yes: I've used eyes and feet and nose since then. - The Two Towers

The shift comes when he stops simply explaining events and begins to recall what it was like to 'use eyes and feet and nose' (he shudders, which shows emotion, and then after that, starts adding more details).

There was a great battle long ago, yes, so they told him when Sméagol was young, when I was young before the Precious came. - The Two Towers

Again, the I shift happens when this gets more personal- going from 'Sméagol knows relevant information and here is how he knows it' to 'I had a life before the Ring'

Bonus round! I found a bit where he swaps between all three speaking styles.

'Who knows? Sméagol doesn't know,' answered Gollum. 'You cannot reach them, you cannot touch them. We tried once, yes, precious. I tried once; but you cannot reach them. Only shapes to see, perhaps, not to touch. No precious! All dead. - The Two Towers

Who knows? Sméagol doesn't know [explaining the Marshes, impersonal] We tried once, yes, precious. [ruminative, reminding himself, slipping into his old habit] I tried once; [now engaged in his memory, or perhaps catching the 'we' and correcting it.] Only shapes to see, perhaps, not to touch. No precious! [ruminative, mulling over the memory] All dead.

Then there's this- he's alone:

Dirty hobbits, nasty hobbits. Gone and left us, gollum; and Precious is gone. Only poor Sméagol all alone. - The Two Towers

I think he's picturing something like this

"I've used eyes and feet and nose since then."

I have a separate post focusing on Gollum's use of singular first-person, but the short answer is: When he's being very honest, in shock, and/or just not playing word games anymore.

But wait! There's more!

Bonus Round: gollum gollum gollum

SUPRISE! Gollum has a secret fourth speech pattern, which is: How he always talks regardless of whatever other things he is currently doing. This is the part, by the way, that elevates Gollum from 'oh he's quirky eurghgh' to 'oh, he's quirky and there is a master behind the scenes and how many copies did LOTR sell oh this is why. not everyone can do this, in fact, most people can't. This shitpost of a character is the equivalent of da vinci painting a trollface because he can and it's fun. It's supposed to be that way. it's art. EURHGUHGHG'

Behold!

Gollum speaks in long, rambling monologues and repeats himself. He often says things twice, especially if they are short phrases or particularly important ones.

`We are lost, lost,' said Gollum. 'No name, no business, no Precious, nothing. Only empty. Only hungry; yes, we are hungry. A few little fishes, nasty bony little fishes, for a poor creature, and they say death. So wise they are; so just, so very just.' Dust and ashes, he can't eat that. He must starve. But Sméagol doesn't mind. Nice hobbits! Sméagol has promised. He will starve. He can't eat hobbits' food. He will starve. I did escape, all by my poor self. Indeed I was told to seek for the Precious; and I have searched and searched, of course I have. But not for the Black One. The Precious was ours, it was mine I tell you. I did escape. - The Two Towers

Sometimes he repeats things with little variations on them.

I found it, I did. Orcs don't use it, Orcs don't know it. Good master, wise master, nice master! - The Two Towers

(by the way, the thing that twigs my dialog ear most to 'he would not say that/where is my precious? :(' is, for some reason, this staccato speaking rhythm mixed with the long rambling. if i am playing a video game or something where gollum has a cameo, and he doesn't ramble and repeat short sentences, my brain says 'skinsuit gollum :(' because my brain sucks.)

Gollum uses vivid, visceral language that usually evokes an unpleasant mental image.

Then rest now, nice hobbits, under the shadow of the stones, close under the stones! [...] Soft and quick as shadows we must be! But Sméagol has used his eyes since then, yes, yes: I've used eyes and feet and nose since then. That is the road to the left. At once it begins to climb up, up, winding and climbing back towards the tall shadows. When it turns round the black rock, you'll see it, suddenly you'll see it above you, and you'll want to hide. The rocks and stones are like old bones all bare of meat. But the Marshes have grown since then, swallowed up the graves; always creeping, creeping. - The Two Towers

Gollum sometimes speaks in sentence fragments, but usually sparingly.

There is one exception to this when he's super nuclear pissed at Frodo and just starts barking

'Come, Sméagol! ' said Frodo. We are in danger. Men will kill you, if they find you here. Come quickly, if you wish to escape death. Come to Master!' 'No!' said the voice. 'Not nice Master. Leaves poor Sméagol and goes with new friends. Master can wait. Sméagol hasn't finished.' There's no time,' said Frodo.Bring fish with you. Come! ' `No! Must finish fish.' 'Sméagol! ' said Frodo desperately [...] [Now he knows he's about to get arrested] 'Masster, masster!' he hissed. 'Wicked! Tricksy! False!' -The Two Towers (the waterfall scene)

This is notable because a whole row of sentence fragments is not how he usually talks. IT IS NOT HOW HE USUALLY TALKS.

Gollum makes noises.

Ach! sss! [...] We guessed, yes we guessed Ach! No! You try to choke poor Sméagol. I can't find it. Ach!

If it asks us, and we doesn't answer, then we does what it wants, eh? Yes, yes, master: give it back, eh? Sméagol will keep it safe;

Tie us up in the cold hard lands and leave us, gollum, gollum. Good master, good Sméagol, gollum, gollum! I am tired. I, we can't find it, gollum, gollum

The Noise™: It seems involuntary and caused by stress and occasionally, hunger or thoughts about food but then again he's always hungry

Finally, Gollum has a consistent personality, and motivations, and areas of interest, and all of that other character stuff, that comes through at all times, but that is probably off topic for this post.

Anyway. I am abruptly out of things to say. TY for reading